An Interesting Duo
by TheSociopath'sPianist
Summary: Two teenage girls find out their past is intertwined closely with the famous consulting detective and his best friend. Paths cross. An old enemy has a new target. Nothing could go wrong, right?
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

Courage.

A beautiful word, don't you think? what do you think of when you hear it? Do you see knights of the round table, dressed in full armor, charging into the midst of battle? Or do you see the loyal men and women of today's fire and police departments, at the ready for any distress call that might come? Or perhaps you see someone who is, or was, close to your heart. Anyone can have it. Yet, it is sometimes easier to say you have courage, than to actually have to test it out.

The Oxford Dictionary defines courage as "The ability to do something that frightens one," and "having strength in the face of pain or grief." The two girls of our story may have known the definition of it, but they had no idea of the true meaning behind it. They had strength and bravery, but they had no idea how taxing courage can be.

This is a story of how, through the help of our two favorite consulting detectives, two friends learned the real meaning of the word.

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Song of the prologue: Courageous by Casting Crowns

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Hey all! So this story was written by my best friend Reese and me. We are going by undercover names to keep our true identities secret. (Mine's Twix, if your curious.)

The song references will appear at the end of every chapter, but forgive me if they occasionally don't. Sometimes I might be at a loss. If you can think of one for a chapter that doesn't already have one, suggest it, and I may consider adding it later. (Besides the fact that I love listening to new music!)

This story took us almost a year to come up with and complete, requiring many revisions and edits. After making sure we had gotten it right (or as close as possible), we decided to see what you, the people dedicated to Sherlock, thought. I will post the first chapter later today and then hopefully get a new chapter up each week. ("Hopefully" being the word emphasis.) You don't have to review the prologue, but if you want to, that would make me happy!

Unfortunate fact of the day: I don't own Sherlock, nor does Reece.


	2. A Midnight Conversation

**(Baliey's POV)**

I had no reason for Sherlock Holmes to call me...or my best friend Abbie, for that matter. Let me back up for a second. We were binge-watching A-Team and eating the scones we had made earlier in the evening. Yep! You guessed it...sleepover time! Anyway, we were laughing at insane Murdoch's antics and fangirling over the incredibly adorable Face when the phone rang. It being midnight (12:03 to be exact), my mom, dad, and two brothers were all asleep. I paused the episode and we listened as the phone announced a "Call from John Watson." We looked at each other, stunned! Sherlock and John were our all-time favorites! We followed their stunning escapades in the newspaper and on their respective blogs. I got over the shock quickly and answered the phone, then hit the speakerphone button so Abbie could hear.

"Ream residence, Bailey speaking."

"Hello, Bailey," said a light tenor voice. Definitely Watson. "We were looking to visit West Virginia and wondered if you could help." I was extremely puzzled, let me tell you. I mean, seriously!

"One moment, please," I said politely and professionally. I pulled Abbie aside. We held a hushed conference.

"What the heck are we doing talking to John Watson at 12:05 in the morning?!" Abbie exploded.

"Shhhhhhh!" I said. "Why would they call us, and what could they possibly want to visit West Virginia for?"

"Well, you could ask him," Abbie said, her tone of 'Uh...duh!' obvious. I nodded.

"A couple questions for you, Dr. Watson. First, is this for a case?"

"Yes," he responded.

That was all well and good. "Second, why us? There are any number of travel agencies."

"We have some mutual friends, the Meikles, from Zimbabwe who recommended you...do you remember them?" I smiled. We had stayed with the Miekles for three days, and they had reminded me of my grandparents.

"Of course! We so appreciated their hospitality," I said.

"Great!" John responded. "We will need to be there for three days, and because of the nature of the case, it needs to be as soon as possible. When works for you?"

I motioned for Abbie to snag my planner, which was on the kitchen counter. On the way back, she grabbed hers out of her backpack. We compared dates. It was hard to find three free days, her being a junior and my being a senior, but we found three days in the beginning of March.

"Just to let you know, my best friend Abbie is listening to this conversation, as well," I informed John. "Is it okay if she came with me?"

"By all means!" John said. I nodded as Abbie did her victory dance.

"Great," I said. "We have the fourth, fifth, and sixth of March free. How does that sound? It is only about two weeks away."

"Sounds perfect," John Watson said.

"See you then, I suppose," I responded.

"Guess so. Bye!" Watson hung up. Abbie and I looked at each other in astonishment. Watson and Holmes? Coming here? And asking us to host them? Oh my gosh! After ten minutes of excited but silent happy dancing, we returned to watching A-team.

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Song of the Chapter: Happy by Pharrell Williams, the _Despicable Me_ sound track

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Thank you all so much for reading! It's really late so I am not going to say much, but I do want to thank all the people that have already looked at this. I just got this up this afternoon, and I already had nine people look at it! That makes me very excited!

Best of wishes for a good weekend to you all! Keep an eye open, because I may have a surprise on here again tomorrow afternoon, if my co-writer doesn't mind... Thanks again!


	3. Introductions

(John's POV)

When the plane touched down in Parkersburg, West Virginia, I nearly sighed with relief. Sherlock had been deducing before the flight. His first victim had been a young boy afraid of heights. The next had been eighteen year old girl running from her constantly drunk father. I can understand that he is bored, and anxious to see his... err, meet our hostesses, but he didn't have to throw such temper at every person that he laid eyes on.

After a little while, he finally shut up and fell asleep. After making sure he was completely unconscious, I managed to read a book and watch two movies. i was never one for sleeping while flying. Hours later, we made it to the city. Sherlock must have sensed our arrival, because he woke just before the pilot announced that we needed to strap ourselves down.

After we grabbed our bags, we headed out of the terminal to see two teenage girls jumping out of a Ford Expedition. They waved and walked in our direction. They were whispering about something, and from the way they glanced over at us, I believe it had something to do with us. When they were closer, they stopped and smiled politely. The brunet with hazel eyes spoke up.

"I'm Abigail Wilson, and this is Bailey Ream. You are Dr. John Watson and Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I presume?"

"Your presumption was correct." I smiled at her. 'Definitely her father's eyes, but her mother's open and cheerful attitude.' I thought.

We all shook hands politely. Then the darker, curly haired girl, who had been looking very intently at Sherlock, stated "I thought you wore a hat."

I chuckled, Sherlock sighed, and Abigail nudged her in the arm.

"Seriously?" She nearly hissed. "He hates that thing." But, as almost an afterthought, she smirked. "However, it did look fantastic on you."

I laughed out loud this time. I caught a small ripple of shock cross Sherlock's face before he went back to his completely unconcerned mask.

Bailey managed to stop giggling at Abigail's comment long enough to motion us to the car and help get our bags into the back. "You asked to be here on a case." She said as she climbed into the driver's seat. "So, we figured if you wanted to see the ground work of Parkersburg and Vienna, we could give you a tour. Unless, of course, you wanted to go straight to somewhere, then we could do that too. We are at your command for the extent of the next three days."

We had slid into the back seat, so the girls had turned to look over the shoulders of their chairs, awaiting orders like obedient puppies.

"A tour would be quite an aid in this investigation." Sherlock stated. That had been the calmest sentence I had heard from him in almost two days.

"Sherlock's right. Why don't you tell us a little about yourselves as well. It's always good to know our hosts."

The girls exchanged a small glance. Then Abigail said, "Well, I'll start..."

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Song of the chapter: Me and My Cello (Happy Together), by The Piano Guys

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Thank you for reading, and Reece, thanks for your approval! Sorry I was late tonight. Some days just don't want you to have everything your way. Grrr...

Anyway, best of wishes for a good week to you all!


	4. Past, Present, and Immediate Future

(Abbie's POV)

After Bailey got on the Interstate towards downtown, I began my slightly crazy story.

"Where would you like me to start?" I asked cautiously.

"Wherever you feel most comfortable, Abigail." John said from behind me.

"Oh, please call me Abbie. I love my name, but it is much too formal for this. I guess I start from the beginning. I was raised here in the US, as you can probably tell, but I was born in London, England. My parents left not long after I was born because of my grandparents on my moms side. More specifically, my Grandmother, who hated that my mom chose a pharmacist over an army man, who had been trying to get my mom for years. Dad couldn't find work, and mom wanted a cleaner environment for me to grow up in. So we moved here. I have been here the rest of my life."

"That must be hard, not getting to ever see your family." John said quietly.

"Yes it is. My parents had discussed going to see my uncle who came back from the war a few years ago."

"I was going to stow away in her suitcase!" Bailey interjected. I grinned and punched her arm lightly, making sure that it wouldn't knock the wheel and get us all killed.

"I don't know anything about him, I continued. "Mom said she wanted to let us meet and let him tell me stories about his life. However, our budget is tight as it is. If we tried to go to London now, we would be so far into debt, I might have to consider getting a job, and there would be no savings in my college fund. Alright, enough of my sob story."

I gave Bailey a nod to let her know I was done.

"Right," She said, hitting her blinker to get into the fast lane. "Well, I have lived here for quite a while, but I can't exactly tell you how long. I have tried looking up baby pictures, but I only get as far as my fourth birthday, then it just stops! I asked my parents, but they either change the subject or talk vaguely like before that point, it's not important. I really don't know a lot about my past..." I patted her shoulder. She had always been a little bitter about that.

I noticed the men exchange a swift glance. I caught one from Bailey, and knew she had seen their silent conversation too. I wondered for a moment if there was something they weren't telling us. Why is it that grown-ups always act like they know more than us and that the truth is too much for us to handle? It always bugs me.

We made it down town in time to see Michael headed into dance class. He saw us and waved as we passed.

"That was Michael, my younger brother," Bailey explained. "He's going on seventeen in July. He took so many college classes this year that he is on campus more than at home!"

"How many siblings do you each have?" John asked.

"I have two. Michael, and Jared is thirteen. Abbie here has three."

"A thirteen year old brother, a nine year old sister, and six year old brother. Chaos in basic terms."I said rolling my eyes.

I heard John laugh. Sherlock even chuckled, if it was only for a second.

We showed them the Dance academy, the theater where we had many good memories of shows together, and Juliana Street, which is well known for it's ridiculously old homes.

We gradually moved in to the main part of town.

"Well?" I asked, after we made it almost all the way across town. I looked to Bailey for ideas. "What now?"

O.o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.O

Song of the chapter: Welcome to My Life, by Simple Plan

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Thank you all for reading! Nearly fifty views in less than a week! I am thrilled!

The next chapter will be up later this weekend, hopefully. Fingers crossed!

Also, we will be getting into the more interesting stuff soon. (Exp. Fighting, shopping, and London!) Bear with us. When we first did this, our first draft sounded like we hadn't slept in days and we had eaten way too much candy.(which may or may not have been rather close to the truth...)

PLEASE, if you have any comments or questions, please give your review! It really helps us both.

Alright, have a great weekend!


	5. Dinner

(Sherlock's POV)

"How about some dinner? It's already five thirty!" Bailey exclaimed. "I'm starving!" A sober look crossed her face. "No. I'm just hungry." She must have seen my quizzical look because she explained, "A couple years ago, I spent a month in Zimbabwe, Africa at a children's home with my family on a mission trip. When we met the Meikles?". She grinned at John in the rearview mirror. " I now know that I am not starving, nor do I have anything to complain about at all!" John nodded sympathetically.

"Anyway..." Abigail trailed off.

"Anyway, are you guys hungry?" Bailey asked. John answered in the affirmative, but I could not care less. I looked out the window and watched the town whiz by outside the window. I am not entirely sure it was supposed to be whizzing. "Here are your options," Bailey said, stopping extremely smoothly for a red light. "We have a very good Italian place, an exquisite Latin restaurant, and an amazing Lebanese bistro." John considered this for a moment. I was busy in my mind palace.

"How about the Italian," he decided just as Bailey sped up.

"Bien! Italian it is. Good choice!" Bailey commented. Abigail nodded, seeming excited about dinner. The rest of the fifteen minute ride was filled with a heavy silence. I was bored. Finally, after what seemed an interminable amount of time, we arrived. Bailey and Abigail led the way into the restaurant.

"This is very nice!" John commented.

"Yep! It's family owned," Abigail said. Bailey said hi to our waitress, and the three of them ordered our drinks. The waitress went off.

"Do you know everyone around here?" I asked.

"For the most part, yes," Bailey said absentmindedly as she stared at a tv on the wall behind me. Some American football game was on, and she was enthralled.

Abigail poked Bailey's shoulder, bringing her back to the moment. "It's unusual to go anywhere without seeing someone I know," Bailey clarified. How dull. No one new.

John seemed to find this nice, though, nodding enthusiastically. The waitress came back.

"Fettuccine Alfredo with the spicy chicken, please. Gluten free," Bailey ordered. Interesting. I wonder...

"I'll just have plain fettuccini alfredo, please," Abigail said politely.

John considered the menu before deciding. "Sherlock probably will not order, so we will split the seafood pizza," he said.

"But I don't..." I began.

"That will be all, thanks," John said, cutting me off. The waitress nodded, then headed to put our order in. The rest of dinner passed pleasantly enough. I tried two pieces of the seafood pizza. I stayed in my mind palace as the other three made polite social dinner table talk.

Chapter music: We Will Rock You, by Queen (for beating Martials!)


	6. Rules: Things to be ignored

Dinner was very pleasant...plus WVU beat Marshall 27:3! Anywho, after we had finished and paid (Abbie and I paid for dinner, but John insisted on treating us for dessert), we headed back out to the car. It was 6:45. Abbie saw the time and gasped. "Oh! I almost forgot! I have to be at game night at my church at seven! Do you guys want to come?" She asked, directing the question to Sherlock and John. "I'm bringing Clue," she added in an enticing tone.

John bit the bait. "That sounds fun! We'll go." I smiled at Abbie and turned the music up.

It took one minute and six seconds (I timed it) to drive from C.J.'s (the Italian place) to the Rosemar Church of Christ (Abbie's church). The four of us piled out of the car and headed inside. We found a table in the back of the room already full of elders and young kids in equal measure. "Okay. We'll play in teams," Abbie said as she began setting the game up. "Bailey and me versus Sherlock and John. I'm assuming you both know how to play?"

"Of course we know how to play. A child could learn," Sherlock said. John shot him a "Sherlock-be-nice-to-these-sweet-young-ladies-or-I-deck-you" look. Sherlock shut up.

"We have both played before, yes. Though I warn you that there are some perplexing theories from that one," he said,gesturing to Sherlock, who had zoned out. Abbie and I nodded. The game began. Oh, Clue? That's a kid's game! you say. Yeah. Not with Sherlock, it isn't. You could nearly feel the drive to win. It was intense! And when I say intense, I mean silent-with-a-heavy-atmosphere intense, not some friendly game. There were a couple times when Sherlock decided to voice a theory out loud. Like the one where he decided (and I don't know where he got this from) that it had been the victim's Mother (who wasn't even a character) in the garden (which wasn't a location) with a pistol (which was the only part of this theory that actually existed in the game). Oh, well. Maybe he'll explain later.

Anyway, after some time, Abbie looked at me and said, "Oh. My. Gosh! We won!"

"WHAT?" I said, maybe a tad too loudly. "Oh my gosh! Seriously?" I asked in an excited whisper. Abbie showed me her cards. I could hardly believe it!

"We beat Sherlock Holmes at Clue?" I questioned wonderingly.

Sherlock defended himself: "There was no crime scene or body to investigate."

"And even the great Sherlock Holmes must play by the rules!" John added.

Sherlock shook his head. I could tell he was a rules-optional kind of guy. Gee, really? "I don't have to, but because these two are okay I decided to."

"Wow! High praise!" John said. Abbie looked down, smiled, and blushed. (She has a huge crush on Sherlock!) [OWWWWW! Abbie just pinched me! Okay, maybe not a huge crush.]. I, on the other hand, just grinned.

"Does that mean we might be able to help you on some cases?" I asked. Abbie kicked me under the table. (Did I tell you how much she enjoys hitting me? Jk!)

Sherlock considered this for a moment before saying, "No. I don't need liabilities. Or baggage that I have to take care of."

I'm a black belt. Did I mention that already? No? Well, as a black belt, I am always prepared. "Okay. I can prove that I can take care of myself," I said, rising from my chair.

"Not right now," Sherlock said. "I'm not ready. Tomorrow?"

"We'll pick you up at 6:45," I said.

"Where will we do this?" John asked. Abbie had the answer.

"Why, the HyHo Dojo, of course," she said in an 'uh, duh!' tone. We shared a look, then burst out laughing at the bewildered expressions on John and Sherlock's faces.

"It's a church right inside the Vienna city limits. It's where Abbie does karate," I explained.

Abbie held up a hand, stopping the question that was on John's tongue...and no doubt Sherlock's. "The name just showed up in the paper one day with our class' picture. Who knew Sensei Wayne has a sense of humor?" We laughed together.

"So, we'll see you then?" John said.

"Yep! Six forty five," I said. Then we packed up Clue and headed out.

Chapter song: The 5th by David Garrett (most likely what we were listening to in the car!)

Thank you for making it this far! We apriciate the support! Please feel free to r&amp;r!


	7. A Foreshadow

John's POV.

After we checked into our hotel double suite (the girls knew the man that owned the place), Sherlock disappeared into his room. I went in to check on him when I was ready to hit the sack, and found him still fully dressed, coat and all, reclining in one of the arm chairs.

"Sherlock," I said as calmly as possible, "You have to go to bed. We are going to be up early running with Abbie and Bailey all day."

He didn't move for a moment. Then, without opening his eyes, he asked, "Did you see them?"

"See who?" I asked.

"The men in the restaurant, John," he criticized, his eyebrows knitting themselves more closely together. "More specifically, the one with the death tattoo on his upper arm."

"Great. So he knows, then? And he's sent his men to spy on us."

"He may not know why we are here. But he knows something is up." He sat up and steepled his fingers, glaring at the floor like it was going to tell our enemy all of our secrets.

"Maybe we should cancel tomorrow's outing, then. Whatever abilities those girls have should be kept hidden."

"No, no. That isn't necessary. I want to see what they can do, as I'm sure you do as well."

"Yes, but if it puts them in danger-"

"It won't," Sherlock said, cutting me off. His gaze rose to meet mine. "Remember who I am putting in the line of fire here, John. I wouldn't do this if it weren't absolutely compulsory. I need to know what they are capable of before I can make any more plans."

"Alright. Fine. But you need to get some sleep. He won't hurt them tonight." I went back to my room, leaving Sherlock in his chair, staring at the bed, most likely pondering how much sleep he would need to be fully functional in the morning.

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Chapter Song: Twinkle Luluby by The Piano Guys (to assist Sherlock in going to sleep!)

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Again, thank yolatterreading. We really appreciate your support! If there's anything you think we can do better, let us know.

The latter end of the weekend should have another gift in store for you, so keep your eyes peeled!

Also, to any of you who have been reading my TSS story, I have put the poor thing on hold again, due to this story and school/schedules. Forgive me! I know where I want it, it's just not flowing right now...

Anywho, a great weekend to you all!

~Pianist


	8. Fights: Part 1- John vs Bailey

Abbie's POV.

I crawled into the front seat of Bailey's car. It was so early. Like, two hours, too early...

"Whose brilliant idea was it..." I had to stop to yawn, "to get up this bloody early, anyway?"

Bailey waited to move until I was strapped in. "I think I suggested it, and John agreed."

"Oh. So I can beat you both with a stick at the gym?" I teased, smirking weakly.

Bailey laughed. How was she so awake?!

I managed to stay conscious the rest of the drive, even though Bailey's smooth driving made it very hard. When we picked up the men, I noticed that they both looked like they had gotten plenty of sleep. I sighed, and straightened in my seat. I was at least going to greet them properly.

"Morning gents!" I said smiling.

"Morning!" Said John. The two climbed in the back, and as they did, I noticed Sherlock had a gun under his long coat. My eyes widened slightly, and I brought my gaze to his, silently questioning his motive. He caught it, and put his index finger over lips, telling me to keep quiet. Then he winked. I kept my surprise to myself, trying to act normal. I turned back to the road before me. Our little secret, I suppose...

We made it to the gym a few minutes later. As we climbed out and began heading in, Bailey noted Sherlock's choice of apparel.

"Really, Sherlock? A suit and button down shirt? You might as well keep the coat and scarf on too, cuz I'm gonna school you!"

My mind immediately went to the gun under his suit jacket, so I did what any rational best friend would do. I hinted lightly at potential danger. "Remember what Foaly said in book one: 'If your feeling cocky, it's because there is something you don't know.'" Bailey and I have read many of the same books, and watched many of the same movies, and have a reasonable list of favorite quotes. We tend to remember the ones from Artemis Fowl, Percy Jackson, Lord of the Rings, ect, the most. (This one was from Artemis Fowl, in case you were curious.)

We made it into the gym, and Sherlock shed his coat. Bailey was out on the floor, running a few stretches. I sat down on the edge of the stage up front with John.

Sherlock walked out onto the floor with Bailey, and I watched in silent agony.

"Ready?" She asked him.

"Absolutely," he grinned, pulling the hand gun.

Bailey gave the gun a "really?" look. Then CRACK! The gun was half way across the room. Bailey had smacked the back of his hand and the soft part of his wrist at the same moment, which forced him to let go.

"Come on!" Bailey complained. "I wanted hand on hand! And Abbie, I saw that. Thanks for the warning." She stuck her tongue out at me. I returned the gesture. Although, I had been impressed by how quickly and calmly she took on the situation.

"Hmmm." Sherlock mussed, seemingly unperturbed. "Well, then you need John. I am not fond of that sort of thing."

John stepped up, smirking at Sherlock's back as they passed each other.

"Don't go easy on me please. That is so boring," Bailey said. I noticed how close Bailey's and Sherlock's personalities were. Yes, Bailey was not ungracious and manipulative, but they both get bored rather easily, they both prefer one or two close friends, and they are both very observant. They also looked quiet a bit alike, which was odd.

Sherlock sat down a few feet away from me, but I didn't have time to contemplate that. I was too worried about how quickly they cracked down on one another.

John was stronger, but Bailey was faster. This kept them in a head lock basically for fourteen straight minutes. That was the most terrifying fourteen minutes of my life, needless to say. Every time they hit each other, (which was way more times than I wanted to keep track of) I winced. At one point, I whipped my head away as Bailey took a hit hard, just below the eye. As I did, I caught Sherlock smirking at me. He returned his eyes back to the fight, and I fought inwardly to keep down a blush. What was it about this guy that I liked so much? He was cold, uncaring, calculating. He was everything my nature fought against.

But then again, why was he actually here? I thought. Why are they wasting valuable time with us when they could be investigating whatever case them came to work on? My reverie was gone in an instant though when I heard another grunt from Bailey. They were both pouring sweat, and Bailey had a black eye. I knew they wouldn't stop on their own, so I decided to do the motherly thing and break it up.

"Guys." No response. "Guys!" Nothing. "GUYS!" I shouted. That got them to wake up.

"What?" They both asked. Bailey was rather annoyed, because John had sent a punch to the face, and she had bent back until she was parallel to the floor. That is where they froze. I had to hold down a grin at comedic nature of the scene.

"It's been fifteen minutes. I think that's enough." I looked to Sherlock, who nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," John said between fits of gulping air. "She is most definitely in. Great fight!" They shook and I smiled at Bailey.

"That was the best I have seen you fight yet!" I said tossing her a bottle of water.

"Thanks!" She took a long draft, the equivalent of half the bottle.

"Next," Sherlock said, motioning me to John.

"No," I said immediately.

"What?"

"I said no. There is no way I am fighting him after he's already been nearly beaten to a pulp!"

He looked confused for a second, then just shrugged.

"So fight Sherlock!" John said.

"What?! Are you crazy?!" I asked.

"Come on, what the big deal, Abbie?" Bailey asked. "He wants to fight less than you do, so you'll be evenly matched!"

The big deal was that I had actually been hoping I wouldn't have to fight. I knew he wanted to see us in action, but fighting for show always made me uncomfortable.

"Look, I have heard about you both," I nodded at John, " and I know danger when I see it. He," I gestured to Sherlock, "Is flagging red hot danger."

"Oh, Abbie. You are truly ridiculous."

"Fine! I'll do it! But you will have to be the one that explains to my parents why you have to pay for my funeral."

I kicked off my shoes and socks, allowing my toes to grip the cold maple floor. I took a swig of water before stepping out on the floor. We met, center ring, the confidant detective, and the uncomfortable teen, staring their opponent down before attacking.

"Are you offense or defense?"

He rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

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Chapter Song: I couldn't decide which one to do on this one. So I want opinions! I had 'Another One Bites the Dust' by Queen, but does anybody have any other suggestions?

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Thanks for reading! Have a great week!

-Pianist


	9. Fights: Part 2- Sherlock vs Abbie

(Bailey's P.O.V)

I sat down on the edge of the raised stage in the gym, exhausted, to watch Abbie and Sherlock fight. John came over to sit beside me, and gave me a high five. "You really are very good, you know," he whispered. High praise coming from Dr. Watson, the military man. We clinked water bottles. Sherlock began the fight on the offensive by throwing a roundhouse kick to Abbie's solar plexus. Abbie and Sherlock were almost evenly matched: Abbie was shorter but could still kick Sherlock's head (which she did on more than one occasion) and had much more training, but Sherlock was used to a street fight. Abbie was gaining the upper hand until, after about six and half minutes, Sherlock noticed the gun behind Abbie. I considered running out and snagging it, but decided that it would be better just to sit tight and let events unfold. Sherlock used a front kick as a distraction, took three quick steps, and grabbed it, pointing it at the back of her head. He cocked it, and she froze, knowing that sound meant no sudden moves.

"It appears that there is only one new member on the team, John," Sherlock said calmly, despite his bruised up collarbone. I need to turn him around so she has a chance, I thought. Despite my blasé attitude, I really didn't want to do this without my best friend. Turns out that she didn't need help, though. She raised her hands in supposed defeat but just as her arms reach shoulder height, she whirled suddenly and knocked the gun from Sherlock's hand. A quick nukite (fingertips) to his solar plexus and Sherlock was DOWN!

"Sure about that?" Abbie asked haughtily, as if putting her foot on Sherlock's back and raising her arms in victory had made her queen of the universe. [Yes, Ab, you really did sound like that.]. Then she rushed to help Sherlock up with a concerned, "Are you alright?"

Sherlock dusted himself off as Abbie and I shared our special high five sequence. "Yes, I'll be fine," he said. "I will text you when we need you," he said, directing this at me. I nodded, then stood as John rose and joined Sherlock in heading for the door.

He shook his head. "Cute, smart, and violent!" We got into the car, and I was so sore that I'm surprised I made it home! We dropped Sherlock and John at the hotel, I dropped Abbie off at her house, and then I hightailed it home for a warm bubble bath!

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Chapter song: Mission Impossible, by The Piano Guys

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Thank you for reading! Also, apologies for lateness. I have been a little busy, and needed to get some other things done first...

In answer to my fantastic co-author, would anyone be remotely interested in reading our first draft? It is much more light hearted, sounds like it was written at the wrong hours of the day, and includes stories about our siblings, which in this are not. Any takers?

Anyway, have a superlative week! (My word of the day: superlative!) And updates will completed on Saturday, to the best of my knowledge!

-Pianist


	10. At the Hotel

(Sherlock's POV.)

John and I arrived at the brand new Hampton Inn and waved as the girls drove off. We limped into the lobby and took the elevator up to room 304. Our bruised up faces and limps didn't earn us nearly as many odd looks as they probably should have. John plopped down on one of the beds as soon as we walked in the door. I took an armchair facing the TV. "They appear well. I think they are suitable for the task."

John gave me an odd look. "Actually, for their sizes and weights they did remarkably well!" he corrected. I ignored the comment.

"I approve calling them when needed." I was sore. "John, run a hot bath for me."

John laughed. "Not your housekeeper, dear!" he said in a bad imitation of Mrs. Hudson.

I was not amused. "John, I'm sore. Hot bath now, please."

John sighed, then slowly rose with a wince. "Okay, but only because you said please. But be quick about it because I am going to be stiff." He headed off to the bathroom. "Oh, and John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Don't forget the bubbles."

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Chapter song: You've got a Friend in Me, originally performed by Randy Newman in the sound track of Toy Story.

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My wonderful Co-Author wrote this chapter, sending it to me at the very moment that I needed a smile. She will never cease to amaze me! I wondered at first, if it was too out of character for Sherlock, but then I thought, it's funny and cute: Keeper! Maybe this will brighten someone else's day, as well!

Anyway, thank you for reading! I hope to have another chapter up later today, or tomorrow, since I didn't update over the weekend. (I know, shame on me.)

Have a superior week!


	11. Months Later

(Abbie's POV)

It had been months since we last saw Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson and I kept tabs on each other through his blog or e mail and Bailey and Sherlock had texted some, but that was about it. Another long year of school, basically. I had sort of given up on the thought that they might need our help. I mean, if you think about it, why would they want our help? They are smart, they work well together, and barely make enough money to keep their own heads above water. Taking on two more would be their downfall. Sure we can "take care" of ourselves, but we have never needed to "support" ourselves before. I snapped out of my daydream long enough to realize my phone was blasting music. I giggled. My ring tone for Bailey was the Psych theme song.

"Oh lo?" I said as seriously as I could. Bailey laughed.

"It's 'hello.'" She said.

"Oh! Hello?" (If you have younger siblings, you have likely watched Megamind more than once.) "What's up?"

"Well," she said, sounding excited, "I just finished my last college class of the semester and was wondering if you wanted to celebrate by going to the Green Kiwi and get some frozen yogurt with me!"

"I would love to! Hold on, let me text my mom. I'll text you back in a second to confirm or deny..."

I quickly texting my mom (who confirmed). A few minutes later, Bailey drove up out front.

We exchanged the normal hello's and I asked how the finals went. She had passed with flying colors (no one is surprised). Then it was quiet for a minute.

"Who is it this time?" Bailey asked.

"What?" I shook myself from my thinking zone.

"Every time you go really quiet, it's because you're thinking about a guy, so who is it?" She flashed me a grin as she stopped for a light.

"You know, I'm not always a love sick romantic." I stated firmly.

"No, but it's always more often than not. Was it a fantastic celebrity, or one of the nice fellows around town?"

"I was thinking about Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, if you must know."

"Aha! The great Sherlock Holmes and his fine features have begun to haunt my best friend's daydreams! Perhaps I should have a word with him on that..."

"That is not necessary, thanks!" I said, flushing slightly. Yes, he's handsome and smart, so what?

We pulled into the parking lot of the frozen yogurt shop just as I was getting my embarrassment under control.

Bailey turned and looked at me. "You got that blush under lock and key?" She asked giggling.

"Haha." I said sarcastically, then I grinned. "Do they still have the caramel chocolate candies?"

"That's right, change the subject." Bailey winked. "But, yes, they do." I jumped out of the car fast and was inside before she could say anything else.

We filled our cups full of yummy goodness and sat down at a table near the counter, where we chatted with Abigail Tennant about how working at the Kiwi was going. (And yes, we have the same name. It was quite popular when I was born, apparently, because there are at least seven other girls in town that have that name too.) Abigail excused herself a few minutes later to serve a customer with two very young and restless children. I felt bad for the poor woman. Unruly children is one thing I understand very well. Bailey and I continued talking until she directed my attention with a quick discreet nod to a man in the back corner, who was talking on his phone. I wasn't sure why she would notice him. He looked exactly like every other mid-twenties guy that walked in here. Then I saw the gun handle under his jacket.

I looked back at her. "Undercover cop?" I asked quietly, keeping my cool and trying to look casual.

"Don't know. He's keeping an eye on us though."

I was just scooping another spoonful of chocolate peanut butter swirl when a song emanated from Bailey's purse.

"Who could that be?" Bailey muttered. She read the name. "It's...Sherlock!"

"Are you kidding?" I gave her a very serious look. After earlier, I refuse to be caught off guard again.

"No, I'm not." She flicked open the phone and hit the speaker button. "Hello Sherlock. Long time, no see!" From the slightly icy tone in her voice, I could tell she had given the "maybe -they -reconsidered" thought some time as well.

"We need you here ASAP, if not sooner," Mr. Holmes's low growl of a voice drifted through the speakers.

"What he means to say, is that we could use your help," said John's voice, a little farther off. Bailey and I shared a silent conversation via eye contact. I could tell she wanted to, even if they hadn't really given us much to go on these past few months. I felt the same.

"Where are you?" I asked, getting out of my seat, preparing to move.

"Look up," Sherlock said, sounding a little exasperated. I glanced out the window to see Sherlock and John watching us in a vacant lot across the five lane traffic.

"Well if that isn't creepy, I don't know what is!" I said, turning quickly to Abigail to say goodbye.

Bailey giggled. "We'll be right over!" And shut the phone. We hopped in the car and crossed the street to pick them up.

"There is no rush with you two, is there?" Sherlock asked, quickly clambering into the back seat.

"Hello to you too!" Bailey said.

"Hello," John said, climbing in after Sherlock. "Sorry about all this, it was a rather last minute for us as well."

"What was?" I asked.

"Bailey, drive. Head to the airport. We will explain on the plane." Sherlock stated.

"The plane?!" We both exclaimed.

"Don't worry, your parents know," John said, as if that solved every mystery in the universe.

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Chapter song: Santa Barbara Skies from _Psych: The Musical_ ( Don't ask why I choose this song. I have no idea either, besides the fact that my co-author and I both love this show!)

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Thanks for reading! Have a great week everyone!

If you haven't seen Psych, please watch it. It is a less serious version of Sherlock, except the main character claims to be psychic, even though he is not. It's really fun, and I'm sure you will all love it!


	12. Flying to London

I could see the shock and confusion written all over the girls' faces. We had not had solid contact for months, and then show up to drag them overseas? We had quite the drive to the airport the girls insisted on stopping any time they saw a good milkshake, smoothie, or ice cream place. We finally made it to the airport, and the girls held a hushed conversation as we headed through customs. We finally made it on the plane. As soon as we sat down in our first class seats, Abigail said, "Okay, spill. You said you'd tell us everything once we were on the plane. What's going on and where are you dragging us to?"

John answered the second question first. "We are taking you to London to stay with us."

I answered the first. "There have been multiple sightings of some of Moriarty's men in the Parkersburg area. We want you to help us track them and see what they are up to."

"Sweet!" Abigail said.

Bailey had more questions, though. "Why not stay here? How did Moriarty get here? Why is he here? How are we supposed to help? And can I order this delicious looking flourless chocolate torte?" she asked, pointing to a picture on the menu.

"Ooooh!" Abigail interjected.

I answered Bailey's questions in order. "We don't know how or why he is here. But he has connections to London, so that is why we are going back there. You are going to be our spies...help us gather information. And yes, you may." I felt perfectly fine telling Bailey what she could and could not do because...well, because of my personality. Bailey nodded, mulling over the information.

"Okay," she said finally. "Sounds fun!"

"Another thing: just for safety, we will say that Bailey is my little sister and Abigail is John's niece. However, that is just because of looks."

Abigail laughed. "Are you sure? You and Bailey even have similar tics and habits!" She was joking, but it was true. Then, she had a serious question. "What about clothes and...stuff?"

John answered. "You each have a bag of books and things to do in the compartment above you, along with a matching colored suitcase. Bailey, yours is green and Abbie, yours is purple. The suitcases have a change of clothes and a warmer outfit just in case."

"You can go shopping for the rest once we get to London," I finished. Bailey and Abigail shared an excited and dreamy look, and then turned around and quietly held an excited conversation. I noticed that Bailey had let Abigail take the window seat: clearly, Bailey had flown before and Abigail had not.

John remembered something and, pulling a little blue box out of his jacket pocket, leaned forward and got the girls' attention. "Do either of you get car , err, plane sick?"

Bailey shook her head. "Never have! I adore traveling." Her dad always did, too I thought. Then, Bailey went straight for a book. A bookworm like her mum.

Abbie blushed before admitting, "I used to. But I haven't lately."

John nodded. "Abbie, your mum sent these motion sickness bands just in case." Bailey was already absorbed in her novel and was oblivious to the outside world, but Abigail nodded in thanks, then turned back around. The rest of the flight passed uneventfully.

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Chapter song: "I'm Flying!" From Peter Pan the musical

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R&amp;R please! That's all I ask!


	13. New Arrivals

(Bailey's P.O.V.)

Abbie and I watched too many movies on the way over! When we got to England, Abbie and I practically ran off the plane to get a look at the London skyline. Let me tell you that people are not exaggerating when they say that London is gray, foggy, and very rainy. Sherlock expertly hailed a cab once we finally exited the airport. Abbie and I just stared in awe out the window on the thirty minute ride to 221B.

When we walked in the door, Sherlock immediately shouted, "Mrs. Hudson! Tea for four in 221 B, please!" then marched up to his flat.

A faint, "Not your housekeeper, dearie!" drifted up from below.

John gestured us to follow him up the stairs, past his and Sherlock's flat, and to the one above. "Sorry about Sherlock," he said. "Anyway, this is your flat. This is the living room, there are two bedrooms over there, the kitchen is through that door, and bathroom over there," he gestured at each as he listed them.

Abbie and I nodded, then went to explore the bedrooms. John followed. "I call room on the right!" I shouted, jumping on the bed. "Oooooh! Memory foam!" I exclaimed. Abbie yelped, then ran into her room. Her bed, also, had a memory foam mattress! We each also had two smaller closets, a dresser, and a desk. Then we found the connecting doorway between the rooms. "This stays open," I said. Abbie nodded.

John just grinned at our antics. "Join us for tea?" he asked.

Abbie giggled at the extremely English -sounding invite. "Of course, Dr. Watson," she said in her best English accent. Which, I have to say, is not bad...[Bet you thought I was gonna say it is horrible! Hey hey hey! That was a compliment!]. We headed back down. Abbie and I took seats on the floor, since John and Sherlock had claimed the two armchairs and the couch was otherwise...ah...occupied. Mrs. Hudson brought in tea.  
"Who are these two lovely young lady friends of yours?" she asked.

"Mrs. Hudson, this is my niece Abbie and Sherlock's little sister Bailey. Remember us telling you about them? They're staying in the flat above," John introduced. Abbie and I rose. Mrs. Hudson shoved the tray of tea and biscuits into Sherlock's reluctant arms before giving Abbie and me both big hugs.

"Pleasure to meet you both, dears! You're both adorable things," she said, and I am sure that she had to resist the urge to pinch my cheeks like my little Greek great grandmother. "Enjoy the tea and biscuits, sweets," she said, kissing my cheek and Abbie's forehead before exiting. She poked her head back in the doorframe. "And if you need anything, girls, I'm just downstairs." Abbie and I sat back down and both accepted a cup of tea from John.

"Bailey and Abigail, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said, gesturing at the doorway. I nodded, politely refusing the tin of biscuits being offered by Sherlock. Most unusual of him to offer people things, isn't it? [Abs, isn't it obvious looking back why? No! It isn't interrupting the story! At least...not technically...so no more tickling!]. I passed the tin over to Abbie, who took a few and then set it on the floor next to her. A thought crossed her mind and she handed the tin to John , probably a much safer place for food. Just then, the doorbell buzzed. Moments later, Molly Hooper entered.

"Sherlock, what did you want me to do with the bodies..." she began as she entered the flat. She trailed off when she saw Abbie and me.

"Molly, meet my little sister Bailey and John's niece Abbie," Sherlock introduced. Abbie and I waved to Molly happily.

"Lovely to meet you both, girls!" Molly rejoined, smiling at us. She turned to Sherlock. "I didn't know you had a sister," she said in a 'Awww how sweet!" tone. Sherlock simply grunted in reply. "Anyway, I came to ask what you wanted me to do with the bodies you were using earlier."

Sherlock contemplated. "Hmmm...stick them in the cryogenic freezer for now." Molly nodded.  
"So glad to meet you," she waved to me and Abbie and headed out the door to take care of Sherlock's bodies. Abbie and I shared a look. This was going to be interesting. At least the rest of tea passed quietly enough: Sherlock and John told us a little about how London was set up and filled us in on some current cases.  
"Oh! By the way, you have blankets and pillows to use tonight as well as clothes for tomorrow, but John and I are going to drop you off to shop for...whatever...tomorrow," Sherlock stated. "And don't mind the budget. The government pays for everything."

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**Hey all that have made it this far! So sorry this took so long! The device that I was using for this crashed, and I figure out how to use a real laptop. *GASP!* I know, I know, shocking. But my last few weeks were a tail spin, so being able to write stuff and solve weird problems (like how to work a computer from the stone age of inventions) has been a great distraction.**

**I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as Reece and I had writing it! Please R&amp;R, (that would be a wonderful Christmas gift!) **

**I would like to give a big shout out to Phoenixfire1547, for being the first to favorite and follow! I can not tell you how excited we were to see that!**

**Again, thanks for reading, and I hope to have another chapter up tomorrow... maybe... But until then, I bid you adu!**


	14. Breakfast

(John's POV)

The next morning when I woke, my thoughts immediately went to the girls, staying above Sherlock's flat. That thought sent a shiver down my spine.  
I got a text from Abbie a few minutes later, telling me they were okay, and that there was breakfast being prepped.

Mary and I got ready to leave together. Upon arrival, we beheld the faint smell of bacon and sausage. I smiled, and we headed over to Mrs. Hudson's flat. There we found Mrs. H. instructing her two new cooking pupils the art of perfected poached eggs. The girls were paying close attention, watching her every move like a couple of hawks.

After a moment, Abbie glanced up and saw me.

"Doctor..."she started, but she remembered her situation quickly. "Uncle John! We were just making breakfast. It will only be a few minutes now."

"It smells wonderful!" I said smiling at the three. Then I realized that Mary was still standing behind me. "Mrs, Hudson, would you mind if Mary sat in here while I go up and check on Sherlock?"

"Well, of course she can!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed happily.

Abbie and Bailey smiled at Mary, who smiled right back. Sometimes I found it hard to believe that my wife had been, well, not as sweet and caring as she was now.

The girls quickly helped Mary settle in, insisting that they make her eggs and pancakes. She protested slightly, but when she saw the girls were determined, she relented.

I was about to leave to find out what Sherlock could have possibly gotten himself into when Bailey said,  
"Sherlock went down to the morgue, by the way. Molly had a new corpse to look at," She said with a slight huff.

"She wanted to go with him," Abbie said, explaining Bailey's slightly miffed attitude.  
I smiled. That was the Sherlock I had come to know so well.

I knew it might be dangerous to go to the flat (who knew what surprises Sherlock had prepared for intruders), so I sat and waited for the girls to finish. After breakfast, I made sure Mary would be okay getting home while I took the girls to the mall. Sherlock arrived back just as we were putting the last of the dishes away. Bailey complained to him about missing breakfast, and not having the most important meal of the day, but he ignored her. Sherlock disappeared into his flat, only to return a few minutes later, looking slightly worn and put out.  
"Did they find another body?" Bailey asked excitedly. Then she read his features, glanced at Abbie, who shrugged, and went back to Sherlock. "You solved the case while you were upstairs, didn't you?"  
He sighed. "Let's get you two to the mall."

And as fast as he came through the door, he left. The girls grabbed their purses and the three of us followed his lead. Outside, Sherlock had already hailed a taxi, so we all piled in.

Abbie and Bailey sat in the front row, discussing color schemes and ideas for furniture arrangements. Their chatter ceased half way to our destination to be replaced with silent gaping at Big Ben and the Eye of London. When they got their voice boxes back, Bailey instinctively asked,

"Can we go ride on the Eye at some point?"

Sherlock nearly grinned, which was rather impressive when he was bored and lost in his mind palace at the same time.

"Absolutely!" I answered.

When we made it to the centre, the girls jumped out and stared at us through the cab door.

"Your sure it's okay to use this credit card for anything?" Bailey asked carefully.

"Yes, get whatever you like," Sherlock answered the slightest bit too soon. Bailey took no notice, or at least, as far as I could tell.

"So, if we wanted to do new cushions in the living ro-"

"Yes, you can do it!" Sherlock interrupted. I kept my curious questions in my head.

They squealed slightly in excitement, then dashed off with a quick wave before Sherlock could potentially change his mind.

My gaze turned to him. I was about to ask him why he was being so sharp when he spoke.

"My brother may be a pain, but he does have some uses," Sherlock said blandly.

I nodded. I knew asking for more information could lead to trouble, so I kept my curiosity to myself. We rode for another half hour and made it to Scotland Yard. We were there for a matter of three hours, checking out a cold case. Sherlock was getting into a small argument with Sally about a new lead on their case, when my cell buzzed.

I sighed with relief when I read Abbie's text about their being almost done, and ready to head back. I quickly texted her that they still had a few hours before supper, if they weren't sure on something yet. But the response held the same phrasing as the first.

I relayed this to Sherlock, and we headed out. Outside the door stood a limousine. At the same moment, Sherlock's phone buzzed. The text read:

"Get in the car. I don't want to roll down the window, because it is much too cold for that. MH"

"Great," I thought in disgusted silence. "Just what we need. Another Holmes to make life complicated!"

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**Hello, hello! I got another posted! Albeit at twelve thirty at night! **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed! **

**also, I realized I did not post a chapter song... This Chapter's is Super Trooper by ABBA. The reason for this is that Sherlock obviously got on Mycroft's nerves, and this song gets on my brother's nerves. I thought it was appropriate. **

**The last chapter's song was Defying Gravity, from ****_Wicked._**** (I am hoping the reason is self explanatory...)**

**Big shout out to CalicoKitty402 for Following and favoring! Thank you so much!**

**I hope to have another up in the evening, but no promises. Christmas is a pressing thing!**


	15. Shopping and Hot Dates

Abbie's POV.

We shopped for almost four hours, gathering supplies for the flat (and ourselves...). The first thing on our list was general decor. We started with the living room, deciding that the first thing it would need was a piano. We both played and planned to go into music once we made it to college, so it was vital that we get practice time in.

After we agreed to a beautiful cheery wood upright, and making sure it was going to be delivered properly, we moved on to color schemes. We decided on a simple black and white theme, with a few bold strokes of blue, purple, or green here and there. After finding pillows, curtains and a rug to cover the completely bare floor, we moved on to bedrooms.

We completed that task quickly, and moved on to the electronic side of life. Bailey picked out a new iPhone 5, and I went for a 4. Bailey also wanted a new iPad "to compensate for the fact that her tablet was on it's last leg." I just nodded, keeping my head in the DVD section. I had found the Hunger Games, the Hobbit, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Castle seasons one through six all half off. I was in heaven.

We eventually found ourselves a flat screen television. Then we gave in and bought the boys one too. They couldn't possibly be okay with using that pile of junk they call a Telly. We also bought a blue ray player, and cool stereo sound system that can act as surround sound for the tv, or speakers for my iPod.

Eventually we made it to the shopping for clothes part, and we found lots of stuff! I bought a few dresses, but it was mostly comfy casual clothes. I would occasionally buy a scarf, or a new necklace. Bailey, on the other hand, went full out.

All the too-big-to-carry items were to be held on to until the next day, when we would come pick it all up. I gave Bailey a wary look as we sat down to hot chocolate and pastries.

"We spent over six thousand pounds today..." I said quietly, as I finished typing it all up on the calculator of my new phone guiltily.

Bailey grinned. "So? My big brother Mycroft is taking care of it!" She said in character.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled in spite of myself. After I typed John a quick text, letting him know that we were done, I went back to talking to Bailey. When I went back to focussing my eyes on her, something caught my attention.

I saw two rather gorgeous guys sitting a few tables down from us. Their features were strong, their bodies built for football or wrestling. They weren't brothers: too many differences. (Again, preferences!) They looked to be about the same age as each other, and a little older than Bailey. I remembered seeing them when we came out of the piano shop near the beginning of our excursion.

Bailey caught my staring, and began the typical ribbing. "You looking at a hot date?" She asked. Then she saw whom I was looking at. "Oh wow."

"Yeah," I said calmly. "Do you remember seeing them after we got out of the piano store?"

"Yes, I do, actually."

"Do you think they are following us?"

"Maybe..." Bailey said cryptically. She winked at me. "Maybe their looking for dates too!"

To keep the blush that I felt starting down to a minimum, I decided to joke back. "Maybe their spies."

"For whom?" Bailey asked skeptically.

I shrugged. "Mycroft. Or one of Sherlock's enemies..." I got a text from John saying they were almost there and to meet them out back. I sighed with relief. No more comments about guys. I couldn't help thinking of Artemis Fowl at the beginning of book five, when Butler was ribbing him for thinking about girls.

"I wonder if he figured out how to control it?" I thought to myself.

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Chapter song: Money, Money, Money (Rich Man's World) by ABBA

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**Sorry about the delay guys! Christmas is making me crazy! But I will survive it!**

**Anyway, the next few days are crazy for me and my family, so the likelihood of me being able to use the computer during that time is slim to nothing. However, I will try to get you a few more chapters before the year is gone! **

**Please R&amp;R!**

**Merry Christmas to everyone, wherever you are! And take time to remember why we celebrate it each year!**


	16. Action and Abduction

Bailey's POV

Abbie informed me that John was waiting in the back parking lot for us. We gathered up our numerous bags (there were a lot) and staggered out the back door. When the two cute boys saw the trouble we were having, they offered to help us out. We agreed, slightly awed and mostly grateful.

The back lot didn't seem odd to us as the front parking lot was jam packed with shoppers and their bad attitudes. We got out of the store and the boys set our bags down carefully on the sidewalk, bid us adieu, and went back inside. What we found out back, however, was not John's mini cooper, but a black Bentley limo with tinted windows.

The front passenger side window rolled down and the pretty woman inside said, without looking up from her phone, "Get in the car, you two. And please don't make me get up. I'm trying to text." Abbie and I looked at each other, confused.

"Why on earth would you think we would get into a strange car with a person we've never met?" I questioned, hands on hips. "We aren't movie characters, you know." The woman looked annoyed.

"But you'd get in the car with us," John's voice drifted from the back seat of the Bentley.

"If we asked you to," Sherlock rushed to add.

"Maybe." Abbie said.

"But you would have to let us see you so we know it's you..." I said.

"And then tell us something that only you would know." Abbie finished. With only a glance warning between the two of us, we turned as one and began running toward the mall.

Now the woman looked very annoyed with us. "Backup," she said with a sigh. Four largerthanSherlock could ever hope to be men appeared. Abbie and I shared an all telling look.

"Shi don go?" she asked. (Shi don go means 45 in Japanese. This represents the forty fifth kata that Abbie and I have learned in Shotokan Karate.)

"Yep!" I replied. We went back to back.

"Forty five?" Sherlock's voice asked.

"Uh huh," I grunted, flipping over Abbie's back and kicking one of the guys in the neck, despite my 4'10" frame. Abbie roundhouse kicked a guy in the temple and he dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.

One minute. That was how long it took everyone to realize what we were doing and for us to take the guys out. We started for the mall again.

Now the woman looked very, very annoyed with us. "Plan B," she said. We paused. Just for a split second. But that was enough for the four other men to cover our mouths and noses with foul smelling cloths. I fought against the anesthetic and probably held out longer than I should have, but eventually everything went black.

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Chapter Song: Wolves, from the soundtrack of Disney's **_Frozen_**

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This was one of my favorite parts in the first half of the book! Tune in next time to meet the culprit behind these unfortunate events!

I must apologize... I will not be able to update for the rest of the year, unfortunately. All you lovelies will have to wait until next year for more! ;~D

Have a wonderful New Years Eve, and Happy New Year to you all! May God bless you and keep you in the year to come!


	17. Waking Up Wealthy

Abbie's P.O.V.

Pain: My first sensation. I felt a huge headache shoot right down the middle of my head. I wanted to rub my temples, but my arms wouldn't move. I tried to open my eyes but they refused as well, so I gave up and just lay there, wishing that if I wasn't allowed to open my eyes, then to at least let me sleep. But nooo! I couldn't do that either. Why? You ask. I was scared to death at two thoughts that kept popping into my head. First that the person who wanted to kidnap us might be sitting in the room watching me sleep, and second that if they weren't in here, they could be in another room, torturing my best friend.

I was getting a bit of feeling back in my arms when I realized that I was laying on something velvety. A couch, most likely, I told myself. Then I noted that I was luxuriously warm, like I was laying out on the beach sun bathing. I listened for a moment, trying to glean anything from the sounds in the room. There was nothing for a moment, then I heard raised voices in the next room. It was enough to tell that either Sherlock was here, or they used an excellent recording of him. I hoped that it was the first option.

Finally, I managed to open my eyes, only to close them again at the light. I knew there had been some, but it was a lot more than I had anticipated!

I heard movement, and knew I needed to see what was going on. I steeled myself and opened my eyes. There were huge windows behind the back of the couch I was on. The sun was weaving it's way between thick clouds, which is what had surprised me the first time. The sun had peeked out from behind one at the same moment that I decided to open my eyes. I adjusted quickly, and managed to get myself up on my side to see the rest of the room. It was mostly cream colored, with chocolate brown seating and dark wood tables. I wanted there to be a flash of pink or turquoise blue, but it was just the two aforementioned. Across from me, I saw the reason for movement sounds. Bailey was curled up under a very uncomfortably warm looking blanket.

'She probably doesn't care,' I thought. 'It is most likely bliss to her after being in cold London for nearly...' My thoughts stopped. I didn't know how long I had been unconscious. I also didn't know where we were. Or who brought us here.

Bailey interrupted my depressing reverie with a huge grin and a "You're awake!"

"How are you so happy right now?" I asked, another slice of pain reminding me of my  
headache. "You got up really fast. How did you do it?"

She shrugged. "I only took a small whiff. You had yourself a hearty dose though. Bet you  
had a hard time moving when you first woke up!"

I rolled my eyes. "You have no idea." Suddenly, my phone dinged, alerting me of a text.

"Who...?" I asked myself more than Bailey. I pulled it out of my jeans pocket and found it was Michael.

*Abbie, where are you two? You're not at my house, (obviously), your dad said you aren't at your house, and you turned off the GPS on your phone, so I can't track you. It's really annoying!*

*Why do you care where we are? And were you tracking my phone before now?* I texted back.

There was a long pause before he got back to me. Bailey took the opportune moment to ask, "Who is it?"

"Michael," I said in confusion.

"Why is he...?" She was interrupted by another alert sound.

*Because you have my Once upon a Time season 1 DVD, and I need it back, because Mathew hasn't seen it yet.*

Of course he wasn't concerned as to our well being. I sighed, first relating his reasons for texting me to Bailey, then telling him we were in London, that it was a long story, and that my mom knew where the disks were if he just asks her.

He told me we had some explaining to do when we got back, and said he would ask my mom for his show. I left the conversation at that, because just then there was an explosion of voices on the other side of a door on the far wall.

Bailey and I exchanged a careful look. Like two jaguars hunting their prey, we silently tiptoed to the door and listened.

A sophisticated voice with a condescending tone was heard first. "I told you. There is nothing more I can do.

Unless you want them to stay under lock and key in prison, with the full police force guarding them. Bringing them to London was the best option, and you know it, Sherlock.". I shivered. Just the voice gave me the creeps. And the thought that he was most likely talking about us was very obvious, and very ominous. Keep us safe from what?

"He could be watching us right now!" John's tenor broke through. I hadn't heard him raise his voice like that yet, so it threw me off a little. "Who knows what kind of spies he has lurking around here!"

"I have my best men working on the job," said the posh voice. "I even hired one of the best loners out there right now. I have seen his file, and watched him in action, and he- " he was cut off by Sherlock's baritone.

"Is he trustworthy?" There was a moment of silence, only the faint sound of rustling papers.

"They will never see him coming," said the voice. I was tired of not knowing who was out there, so I grabbed a heavy glass paper weight about the size of a softball and a letter opener off one of the tables. Bailey felt the same way and grabbed a stack of saucers off of a tray of tea things. We knew that if we wanted out, we may have to fight, and we would fight armed. We got back to the door, waited a moment then, as one, we flung the double doors open and leapt through, Bailey holding a stack of saucers in one hand, another poised in the other hand, ready to throw. I held the knife low, and my paperweight high, ready to pitch at anyone unfriendly.

To our great embarrassment, the three men stood slightly shocked at our daring entrance. Sherlock and John weren't tied up, or being held against their will. There were no guards in the room. In fact, John and Sherlock didn't seem nervous about this man at all.

The new man, who looked the least surprised, found his voice first. His tone had more sarcasm and disdain in that one question than I had ever heard from anyone: "So these are the two _amazing_ young women that you were telling me about?"

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Chapter Song: Rockelbel's Canon by ThePianoGuys (because I am listening to it, and I don't have a better one right now... And the Youtube video that they did is just down right hilarious!)

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Happy New Year everyone! I hope it was a good one for you all!

Now, I hope all you fans know where we are. I know, some of you were probably hoping for something more sinister, but we are saving that for later! Mwahahahahaha! (Reese, I am never making that sound again, unless I'm on stage or set...)

I would like to give a big shout out to Chortez for following our story! And my apologies for not saying so after the last chapter. You will find that I have a "Dory mind." My BFF can vouch for that.

Thanks, also, to all of the guest reviews, and Ms. Savannah for her review! We really do love the encouragement!

I am so excited, because in just a few weeks, I will be posting the first truly intense scene in this story, you will get to find out a little more about the connection between the four of them, and the plot will finally show itself! I could do a little jig!

Just as a heads up, I may not get another chapter posted until next weekend, due to life. [ONE MORE WEEK OF VACATION! PLEASE! :,( ]

Anyway, thank you thank you thank you for reading! And please keep us posted on what you think! Have a great weekend, and enjoy your new year!


	18. Trouble Brewing

John's POV.

I was, needless to say, a little shocked when the two girls burst through the door. Then, on top of that, they were holding regular, everyday, household items like weapons they were unafraid to use!

"Sherlock, John, could you two give us a moment?" Mycroft requested. The firmness in his voice told me not to argue, but this newfound guardian instinct told me to stay. I was utterly torn. I looked to the girls to see how they were reacting. Bailey was glaring at Mycroft with distaste, and Abbie was scanning Sherlock and I, presumably to make sure we were who we appeared to be. Our gazes caught, and saw a flash of fear dart through her eyes. But then it was gone. She glanced at Bailey, then nodded at us.

"We will be fine. Go ahead," she nodded at the door.

I relented and dragged Sherlock out. He came easily. He didn't seem worried in the least.

"John, why are you concerned? It's Mycroft for pity sake! He wouldn't hurt them unless they were endangering national security."

"It's not that I'm worried about. It's the stress on their minds. What if it's too much?"

"I highly doubt you need to concern yourself with that."

I heard a conversation on the other side of the door, so I leaned in close to get a good idea of how the girls were doing. I hadn't expected what I heard...

Bailey was the first I heard: "There was no budget."

"Young lady, don't get sassy with me. You were restricted to two thousand for your flat. That was it. You are almost four thousand pounds over!" Definitely Mycroft.

"Sir, we are telling you the truth. We had no idea there was a budget line. Sherlock handed us the plastic card and told us we had free reign. We're terribly sorry about the mix up!" Abbie there.

I looked over at Sherlock suspiciously. "Did Mycroft tell you about a budget?" I asked.

"No, I heard nothing of the kind," he said, play innocence to the tee. Had it not been for two facts- one, I have lived with Sherlock for years, and two, I knew Mycroft well enough to know that he wouldn't be negligent in a matter such as this- I would have believed Sherlock's act.

Suddenly, from the other side of the door, we heard a well-practiced,"SHERLOCK!"

"You're in for it this time," I said.

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Chapter song: "Busted!" From the Disney TV show, Phineas and Ferb.

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Thank you for reading! I know this was a short one, but there are always going to be a few of those in a story. (And no, I couldn't resist using the P&amp;F song. Sorry! ;) )

If you have any questions, feel free to PM me. I will try to check my account throughout the week so that it won't be a long wait.

Also, I do apologize for not updating last week... The time flies sometimes! I will try to make up for it by adding not one, but two more chapters this weekend, just for kicks!

Have a fantastic weekend!


	19. Bailey and Her Friend Cause a Scene

Sherlock's P.O.V.  
I entered the room slowly, half expecting to find as strange a scene as when Bailey and Abigail had unexpectedly (and abruptly) burst upon the scene. But what I found was this: Mycroft was standing behind his desk, both hands on the desk, leaning slightly forward towards Bailey and Abigail in a gesture of dominance. Bailey and Abigail were seated in two wingback chairs on the opposite side of the desk. Abigail sat primly in one of the two wingback chairs, back up straight, hands folded calmly and neatly in her lap, listening intently to Mycroft's every word. Bailey was doing her best to act like Abigail and be polite, but she finally gave in: she leaned back in her chair, stretched her legs out in front of her and let them stay full length, folded her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes with a yawn.  
I had to keep down a chuckle at that as Mycroft gave her a look of displeasure before turning to me and saying, "Did you not tell these two delightful young ladies about the budget we set?"  
Bailey sat bolt upright at this, leaned over to Abigail, and hissed something harshly in her ear. Abigail put one hand over Bailey's mouth, punched her on the shoulder, and replied in a whisper. Bailey rolled her eyes but nodded, and once Abigail had let her go, punched Abigail on the arm.  
"I forgot," I said. And that was the truth, for once. I have many more important things to think about than a government budget, for heavens sake.  
Mycroft doubted me, though. "Somehow I doubt it happened like that," he retorted. I sighed and was about to explain when he held up a finger. I crossed my arms. "Uh uh uh uh," he admonished. "Remember what Mommy said about backtalk!"  
I could not believe he was dragging mother into this! "Yes, but it only applied to her, not my brother." I responded.  
"No," he said.  
"Yes."  
"Nope."  
"It does too! And you're still mad about the worm, which was NOT my fault," I argued.  
"I am not. And it may not have been, but the spider, centipede, and cricket all ended up in my bed. They were yours, Sherly!" I rolled my eyes. I saw Abigail roll her eyes to the ceiling and begin mumbling. Praying, I deduced. Bailey leaned over, grinned, and mumbled something in Abigail's ear. Abigail's eyes widened before she closed them and sighed exasperatedly. Then she whispered something in Bailey's ear. Bailey nodded, and both of them began edging towards John. "And you know you let the mouse in just to annoy me, but it ended up in the pudding and really shook Mum up!" Mycroft finished his lecture, which he had been giving this whole time, and paused to catch his breath.  
"What can I say?" I asked. "It was fascinating and must have been cold outside in 16 degree weather!"  
Mycroft sighed. "Well, the point is that..." He trailed off. He had caught sight of the girls, who by now had nearly managed to make it to John. "OI! I'm not done with you two yet!" Bailey began running circles around the room while Abigail dashed the rest of the way to John.  
"Don't make me run!" Mycroft yelled as he started running after her. He has an odd, slow waddling run, so it was quite funny to see him trying to catch the slim, small, athletic Bailey!  
Bailey threw Abigail a look that said uh, duh! As she said, "You already are..but anyway, I won't stop until you let us go!" And almost as an afterthought, "and let us keep the stuff!"  
Abigail sighed. Even she didn't expect this to work.  
However, Mycroft stopped, put his hands on his knees, and wheezed before saying, "Fine. You are free to go and keep whatever." I saw Abigail wince as Bailey nearly ran into a lamp...she then just grinned at Abigail.  
The two of them gave a low, inconspicuous, fist bump before Anthea showed us out into the car that would take us home. "Just don't give us toomuch to think about?" Mycroft pleaded as we headed out. I merely shrugged. There were no promises in this line of work.

Thanks for reading, guys!  
... I just read my promise that I made at the end of the last chapter... Ignore me from now on. And if I say something like that again, send me this: "Chapter 19." I'll remember, and fix my error.  
Okay, next chapter you fabulous readers will finally find out a little about the girls and their crazy families. And a small game of cat and mouse will be in order!  
Have a great week, and I will get back with you all soon!


	20. Oh, BTW

Abbie's POV

Alright, so we made it through a whole week with Sherlock in 221B and C. Now, I have to say, there wasn't much to complain about. The men have spent most of the time in their flat; Bailey and I in ours, decorating and settling in. Breakfast, lunch and dinner out. Bailey and I offered to make something sometime, but John insisted we wait until our rooms were done. I told him there were only a few things left: just a couple of small touches to make it perfect. But he insisted.

Speaking of our rooms, I suppose that would be a good thing to detail. We went for solid colors. Bailey's room was bright summer colors, but was mostly in bright teal blue with some sea green and orange (beach vacay, anyone?). Mine was a lot more mellow, winter colors. Ice blue was my base color, with a splash of lilac purple or glittery white. Yes, in some respects, we are polar opposites.

I was quite proud, needless to say, when, on day four, we finally finished! We got only a few days to rest, because Tuesday morning, well...

I was fast asleep, having a wonderful dream about Shawn and Gus from Psych dressed as Jedi in Star Wars, fighting Darth Vader, and yelling something like 'use the wooshy finger!' It was just getting to a really great part when...

"Get UP!" A deep baritone voice cut through my foggy cloud of a dream.

"What's up?" Definitely Bailey.

"A stakeout." Sherlock's voice informed.

I sighed and rolled over to look at the clock. Was that a six? No! A four! 4:02! I rolled back over.

"Nuh uh!" I complained into my pillow as I heard the two of them entered my room. "Too early..." I went back to sleep, and the next thing I knew, I was on my bum, on the floor, with two very awake Holmes siblings smiling at me. I glared at them each in turn. 'They will pay for that eventually.' I told myself.

I stayed away from my bed so that I wouldn't have the temptation to go back to sleep. Of course, Bailey caught me almost completely asleep, leaning against the dresser. Once I washed my face I was okay, though.

Bailey was by the door, ready to leave in five minutes. I took my time. Ten minutes tops. I hoped John was having as much trouble staying awake as I was. Turns out, he was.

We all climbed into a cab Sherlock had called. Bailey and I sat in the front row, while the men clambered into the back seats. (Yes, it's important. Just keep reading, and don't ask questions!)

"Alright," I started, looking over the seat to Sherlock, who was staring out the window. "What are we doing? Where are we going? I want a name and/or an address. Also, why it was so important, that you literally dragged me from my bed at four in the morning."

Sherlock sighed. "If you must know, we're going to a nice little book and coffee shop down near the I knew you would like it." He noticed my eyes twinkle or something, which brought on this last comment. Or he read my mind, which would not surprise me. "What do you think Bailey? ...Bailey?" I looked over at Bailey who was in her own little world, probably daydreaming of books and cappucinos. I glanced back at John, who was asleep for the time being.

"Hmm," Sherlock mussed aloud.

"Just tell me. I'll fill them in later."

"That is interesting! It's like you two switched minds... I wonder-"

"No! Although Bailey and John are very much alike. Answer my question, PLEASE!"

"Why are women always so dramatic?" He wondered.

"Why are you always so obnoxious and rude?" I countered.

He took a second to think about it. "Fine. One of the men spotted in Parkersburg was found in downtown London.

"Really? That's strange! It's almost like they're following us." I mused, more to myself than to Sherlock. His eyes wandered. I could tell he was going through old paperwork or something in his mind palace, so I left him to it. I was kind of lost in my own little world now too. Some part of me told me to go back to sleep, but, now that I was dressed, I couldn't. It's one of my many weird opinions about life.

I was off in my world, walking on a beach, when Bailey slowly sat up beside me with "What did I miss?!" I nearly jumped out of my skin in surprise! John was also awakened at this, but kept his cool.

"What's wrong?" He sat up slowly from the window, rubbing his eyes.

"So nice of you two to join us," Sherlock commented.

"Isn't that what your brother said?" Bailey inquired. "You two are so alike!"

"Don't say that," Sherlock interjected, obviously tired of hearing about all the similarities he and his brother shared. "You don't know either of us well enough to begin calling out our parallels."

'Oh! Geometry is a nice simile to use there.' My helpful conscience pointed out. 'Shut up. No math during summer break!' Said my tired, irritated side.

Sherlock, meanwhile, had told the two to ask me what they had missed, so I explained word for word what Sherlock told me. Then I told them my assumption I had voiced to Sherlock.

"They would be following you. After all, you are..." Sherlock shut his mouth when he caught John's glare, which Bailey and I both saw.

"What are we?" Bailey asked. "Now you've got me awake!"

"Completely and totally!" I agreed in adverb-ish fashion.( I spent way too much time in the school room. Wait! My room is my school room! Oh NO! Forget I said anything!)

"Fine, tell them," John sighed. "It's rude to keep something from them, now that they know something's up."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. There were too many rules in the manners book (that is more mental than actual pages of words, for some reason) to remember. And I don't think Sherlock really cares. At least, he's not afraid to insult me. Or try. I can brush off most insults, or ignore them. They don't phase me. I have noticed though, that Sherlock has lacked any of the normal rude qualities he had with him last time we met. 'That was a thought for later,' I told myself. Had I thought it through, Sherlock's next comment might not have come as as much of a shock as it did.

"You're both exactly what we told you to be."

Shocked silence for exactly fifteen seconds.

Then I nearly exploded from confusion.

"What?!" I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. I hoped I had misunderstood him because he talked so fast. No. The one time I completely understood him...

"Are you saying I'm you sister, and Abbie is John's niece and you didn't tell us!" Bailey was taking this a little harder than I was. Maybe it's because I actually lied, and I was still a little foggy in the head. But either way, I was sure I'd be a lot angrier at them once I woke up completely.

"We did, in a way." Sherlock pointed out. That kind of shook me loose.

"That's beside the point! You should have told us. We have the right to know these things." I chastised.

"Why?" Bailey asked. "Were you afraid we'd get hurt?"

"...yes." John said after a moment.

"You can let us out here." I told the cabbie. As we climbed out, I glared at them from out the door. (See? This is why it's important that we sat up front. We can get out much faster.)"And you two can pay!" I slammed the door. Bailey and I took off into the early morning darkness, disappearing before the men could get out of the car.

The rest of the day was spent in hideout. We went back to the flat and packed for a long day. We took a large folder of music we had compiled together when we got to London (in case we wanted some music in a flash), snacks (some snack bars, water bottles, and grapes), sunglasses and an extra outfit each. We changed into completely different outfits, just to throw them off a bit. Bailey had on jeans and blue tank top with a laced back, which she wore with a white infinity scarf with blue polka dots. I wore my comfy black two piece suit and a sky-blue silk shirt. I also threw in some superhero masks and capes. (Hey! You never know! Someone might need saved!) [Bailey is rolling her eyes and telling me to get on with the story. But I thought it was important!]  
Bailey grabbed her Karate fans and knives, I got my gun and License, (both of which came from Mycroft. Bailey had decided he wasn't one she really liked. I didn't blame her. He's definitely not my most favorite guy on earth, but I got along with him. Well enough, that he managed to get me an official concealed weapons permit, even though I'm under age. Now you may ask about why Bailey doesn't need a license. They're fans. You don't need a license for carrying a fan. Duh. She does have a gun license, she just doesn't use it unless absolutely necessary.)

We took our time. Bailey set up a 'lead' on Sherlock's computer, giving the obvious clue that we went to a near-by college to practice. We made sure everything was put away, said good morning to Mrs. Hudson, then headed out.

We arrived at the college a little after six- thirty. First we worked on the escape route. After almost managing to kill myself four times, I had the gist of what we were doing. Then we went to our rooms and practiced our own music for a while. After an hour or so, we got together again and worked on some double stuff. We ran through lots of fun music by Glee, The Piano Guys, musical theater (as general over view) and a whole lot of other music. We had just about run out of music around eight, when the grandfatherly gentleman at the front desk texted me, letting me know the men had finally appeared, and they were on their way up. I told Bailey, and we started up "Rolling in the Deep" Piano Guys style. I sang, while Bailey accomplished both the piano and cello parts in her two hands.

A moment after we started, I heard them outside, trying to be quiet, but failing in every sense of the term. We finished the song, then nodded to each other quietly, knowing it was time to go.

We slipped out the window, onto the balcony, leapt over the rail into a tree, and made our way down to the green below. We were gone before Bailey can say 'Holy chili with hot sauce!' in Spanish. (I'm not sure what that is in Spanish, but it sounded cool in English!)[Bailey is saying it's "Chili Santo con salsa picante!"]

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Chapter Song: Rolling in the Deep- ThePianoGuys (or Adele. I love them both!)

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Hey, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

I felt bad about the mix up *cough, cough* my "Dory mindedness" *cough, cough* over the last few weekends, so I thought I should try and get this up a little sooner. There will hopefully be another chapter this weekend. I refuse to promise. That got me into a terrible mess...

Thanks again for reading, and we will each other again soon!


	21. Dissapearing Acts and Evasive Maneuvers

John's POV

I couldn't believe it when Sherlock dropped the whole "You're exactly who we told you to be," bomb on the girls. If I had been them, I would have probably done a lot worse than just jumped out of the cab and made us pay the fare. But that might be because they have to put up with surprises like that from their siblings every day, so they just need alone time to get over it. I don't blame them. I like alone time away from Sherlock too, sometimes.

I can take some of the blame too, but Sherlock just kind of left them there on that edge. 'Yeah, here's reality's edge- like truth! I've gotta run and solve a crime, so good luck trying to comprehend it all!'

We went back to the flat (after taking an hour detour to find and employ a homeless guy from his network to watch for the assassin we had gotten up early to look for) hoping to find any kind of clues as to where they might have gone. Sherlock noticed his computer was on and found a recent link to the college about twenty minutes from here.

I happened to glance at the clock and noticed that it was already six-thirty.

We found the college. That was the easy part. The hard part was trying to find the music building. It took us over an hour to find it! Of all the places Sherlock knows like the back of his hand, he didn't know the college campus only twenty minutes from his own front door! Did I mention that he hates asking for directions?

When we found it, an old gentleman at the front desk told us there were two well-mannered young women up on the third floor practicing together. I thanked him and Sherlock and I headed up the stairs to the third floor.

When we got to the room number the man had said, we stopped. Inside, a young strong voice and a well practiced piano played out a carefully- practiced, heart-felt piece.

"Wow." I commented. "What a pair! I'll bet that's Bailey at the piano."

Sherlock insisted I keep it down. "But yes. Bailey is at the piano. She's coming along well."

I was thrown a little at this remark. I had never heard Sherlock give any good comments about someone. The best I'd ever heard come out of his mouth was 'brilliant impression of an idiot.'

The song finished in a soft, regretful tone. There was silence for about thirteen seconds before Sherlock rapped at the door, then barged right in. Uninvited, of course. But then I realized there was no one to invite us in. They had slipped out the open window, apparently.

"That's just great." I said to myself. I decided to rib Sherlock (who was climbing out the window, trying to follow the girls' escape route but getting stuck in the tree) with, "I guess we should have thought that through a little better. One of them is your sister, after all."

He simply glared at me for interrupting his reverie.

For the next eight delightful hours, we chased the girls all over London. When ever Sherlock tried to get ahead of them, they somehow managed to take a flying leap, keeping just ahead of us. Once, we nearly caught them in the ice cream parlor down town, and, well...

"There! In the Ice Cream Parlor!" Sherlock shouted. I looked across the street, and there they were, near the back corner, drinking milkshakes. I had to look away as we crossed the street. Sherlock didn't until we made it half way, and huge truck crossed our view, and in those few seconds, the girls disappeared. We raced in, hoping to find them behind the counter, but the shop owner confirmed the were 'out in a flash, after the smaller girl pointed out the window at something.'

"Was it you two?" He was either trying to see if we were guardians or attackers they were trying to get away from.

"Yes, it was us. That was my niece and his sister." I said, trying to catch my breath. Sherlock was observing the table they had been sitting at.

"Anything?" I asked.

"Three ideas." He got up. Out front I saw two girls drive by in a car. "Mmm. Maybe one."

"Hey!" The owner yelped in rage. "My car!"

"My niece!" I exclaimed.

"My sister!" Sherlock added (sounding much more impressed than annoyed).

"Wait!" The store owner and I yelled, following Sherlock out the door.

Abbie leaned out the window and waved.

"See you later, when we feel like it!" She called.

"Adios Amigos!" We heard Bailey call from the driver's seat. She had obviously hotwired the car and had it ready earlier. "By the way, the milkshakes are on your tab. Thanks!"

Sherlock stopped and whipped out his phone. He quickly typed in something. Waited a moment, then began reading something.

"What are you doing? We need to try to chase them!"

Sherlock just rolled his eyes. Again.

That is how most of the day went after that. Finally, we went back to the flat. It was about seven o'clock P.M. and I felt awful. We hadn't eaten all day. We had also been up since four. I'm not sure how the girls kept going, because I was about to drop. I hoped if we stopped chasing them, then they would stop running and come back. Thankfully, I was right.

Around nine Sherlock and I went to a nice restaurant and picked up a meal of ham, mashed potatoes, peas, and pastries and took it back to the flat. Of course, Sherlock opted to compose a piece of music, rather than eat. So I sat in my comfy chair in front of a small fire in the fireplace and ate, reading the news. About ten, I placed two trays on the floor (since the table was covered in experiments of I-don't-want-to-know-what) and filled them each with food. After I'd done that, I glanced at Sherlock, who had stopped playing and was simply staring into the night.

"Sherlock? Could you help me carry these up to the girl's room?" I asked, hoping I wasn't interrupting something important. He looked down at his hand, in which he held a stack of hand-written composition. He wrote one more thing on the front sheet, in the top, right hand corner. His name, I saw. He has flowing, precise hand writing, I noted. He laid it on one tray and nodded to me, allowing me to head up first. we set the trays by the door, then I knocked.

"Abbie? Bailey? Are you two back yet?"

"Of course they're back." Sherlock said behind me, not in the least trying to be quiet. "Did you not hear them coming up the stairs?"

I shut him up with "Shh! They can hear you!" I turned back to the door. "There is a peace offering out here, if you want it."

We went back down stairs, but only for a moment. Sherlock silently motioned for me to follow quietly. I wasn't sure why until we were back upstairs. The door was slightly ajar, and the trays were gone. Inside I could hear Bailey say: "...to scream at him!"

There was a rustling of papers. Then Abbie spoke. "Just tell me. They're obviously trying to make it up! Look, I'll be Sherlock."

"Fine. Even though you could never pull off the insults." Bailey responded. Then she leapt into a speech she must have been wanting to give us all day. "I can't believe you could be so heartless! Would it have hurt to given me a hint? You could have called, left me a note! Something! ANYTHING!"

"Maybe I wasn't allowed!" Abbie said, trying to copy Sherlock's baritone, and (I'm sorry to say) failing miserably.

"I MEAN," she stopped abruptly, "... wait, Abbie, what did you say?" Bailey asked.

"I said," here she dropped her imitation for a moment in surprise, but quickly grabbed it again and continued with, "Maybe I wasn't allowed...

She drifted off at the end because Sherlock jumped into action, (again) entering the room uninvited (and no one's surprised.) I thought he was going to try and correct Abbie's attempts at his voice. But I was wrong. He was going in to confirm her statement.

"She's right."

"I am? And don't you ever knock?!" She asked.

He ignored her second question, preferring to settle the sibling problem first. He explained their mum had sent Bailey away for her own protection, so she wouldn't become another Sherlock (or Mycroft for that matter.) He commented that he wasn't sure why.

I was. But I didn't say anything.

There was a full minute of silence, broken by Abbie who saved the day with "Now that we've got that all straitened out..." (See Sweetness! You didn't even need your mask!)

I became the adult of the situation. "Yes, I think it's time for bed!" I kissed Abbie on the forehead, and she responded by wrapping her arms around my neck in a quick hug. Then I gave Bailey a warm hug. She was stiff at first, but ended by burying her face on my shoulder letting go of all her tension in a few sobs. I just stood there and held her for a bit.

Abbie, ever the sweet young lady, politely got up from her chair and turned to Sherlock. "Night, Sherlock," she said. In that small goodnight and her sweet smile, I could tell we were forgiven. By her, anyway.

"Good night. Good night Bailey." Sherlock responded rather stiffly (which I need to speak with him about). He was apparently unsure what to make of Abbie. Or, for that matter, Bailey.

Bailey responded with a quick, uncomfortable, "Night."

Sherlock was about to say more, but Abbie jumped in and grabbed his shoulder. She turned pink slightly when he gave her a confused look, (I think she likes him!) but she held eye contact. She glanced at Bailey, then back at him, letting him know not to push her right now. He paused, then relented, backing out of the room, still glancing back over his shoulder. I followed Sherlock's lead.

The rest of the night passed in strained suspense, unsure of what the morning might bring.

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Chapter Song: (this was so fun!)

#1. First, check out Marshmallow Attack from Frozen. Specifically, the first 28 sec. Now go back to the second section of the last chapter where Bailey and Sherlock pull Abbie from her bed. (I just loved that! It lines up perfectly!)

Now, this chapter. Due to the many different feelings expressed in this chapter, I decided to use two different songs to depict this.

#2. Boogie Woogie Chase- Tom Chapin (A kids song, yes, but it's so fun, and kind of appropriate!)

#3. Vesuvius- David Lanz

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**Thanks for bearing with me in the music department, guys! I just love listening to music...**

**Again, thanks for reading! I hope you liked our little twist these last few chapters. They were so fun to write! **

**Remember to R&amp;R, and we'll see you in the next chapter!**


	22. Make-up Case!

John's POV

When I woke up, I heard someone in the kitchen. I figured it was Sherlock, until I heard "Good Morning, Sherlock!" It was Abbie. She was up awfully early.

Sherlock mumbled something then a much more distinct, "What are you doing?!"

"Dusting."

"What about my work! If you've moved something-"

"I haven't." She interrupted. There was silence for a moment. Then Sherlock almost shouted,

"WHERE'S MY-" This was interrupted again, but this time by a loud thump. I realized that now was a good time to find out what was going on. I rushed out of the bed room, pulling on a night robe as I went. What I found was quite interesting to say the least. Sherlock, in his blue silk pajamas and robe, was sprawled out on the the big chair, Abbie leaning over him in front, her hand clasped over his mouth.

"John and Bailey are still asleep! Keep it down!" She used her perfected harsh, but almost silent, voice, and kept eye contact, which was impressive. Sherlock had a hard, piercing glower that many flinched from, but not Abbie. She pulled away slowly. Sherlock stayed quiet. That is when she noticed me standing there. "Sorry! Didn't mean to wake you!"

"But where's my violin?!" Sherlock interrupted urgently.

"It's polished and put away in your case."

Sherlock went to the case on the stool by the hearth. Inside, the elegant instrument sat, the fresh polish heightening its beauty. Sherlock tuned to his pitch perfect ear, then began playing, a small smile drifted across his face as the song lilted along. Abbie and I left him alone, and went up stairs to start some breakfast. It smelled so clean and fresh.

"I cleaned a lot this morning. I've been up since seven." She said. I glanced at the clock, which was pointed toward ten o'clock.

"That's great!" I said. She just smiled ruefully, making it apparent her mind had not been on the cleaning. We began cooking eggs, bacon, and lots of other things. It began to come together just before Bailey woke up (she and Sherlock are usually the first ones up, but yesterday had been rough on her). All we were waiting for was the bacon.

When Bailey entered, Abbie greeted her friend brightly. "Good morning! We made cook-and-make-up breakfast!"

"Eggs, bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, and blueberry muffins. All Gluten free for your convenience of course!" Iadded. Abbie smiled and giggled as she checked the bacon in the oven.

"Where's the toast?" Sherlock asked from behind Bailey in the door way.

"Good morning! Smells good...I'm very hungry!" Bailey said, smiling at me and Abbie and ignoring Sherlock completely.

Sherlock and I shared one of those eye contact conversations which went something like this:

Sherlock:Why is she treating me like this?

Me: Well, gee, I don't know! Maybe it's because you acted like a jerk in the cab yesterday!

Sherlock: I was just saying what you told me to say!

Me: Well why don't you say something nice, or at least try. It goes a lot further than dropping an obvious-bomb on them.

Abbie saw the looks and tried to help the situation. "Alrighty boys, no silent arguments at the table please!" She slid a plate of muffins into the middle of the table. "I want every one to eat something. No one had very good nutrition for running all over London with. And Sherlock, I want at least one egg eaten off your plate." Bailey obediently plucked a muffin from the tray, closed her eyes, and savored its sweet flavor.

Sherlock sighed. "John I now see what you meant when you asked if I had a girl that 'feeds me up.' And Bailey, I apologize for keeping your identities secret from you two."

"Sorry," Bailey said. "Must have misheard you. What did you say?"

"He won't say it again, you know that." Abbie pointed out.

Sherlock could not let that drop. "Just to prove you wrong, and because she is my sister, I will say it again. Bailey, I'm sorry for keeping secrets from you." I glanced at Abbie, who had turned back to the sink to finish washing dishes. She was smiling. Bailey knit her eyebrows, tryingto see the snake that wasn't there.

"Well," she said after a moment, "I can't hold a grudge for very long..."

"And he apologized..." Abbie muttered at bowl she was washing.

"I suppose..." She paused again, building tension, "Fine. Apology accepted." Bailey got up and went over to Sherlock. Sherlock, to my surprise, got up and gave her a long, warm, relieved hug! Abbie and I let out the breath we had been holding. Abbie and I shared a glance that said 'I'm-glad-that's-over-with-because-if-it-kept-going-I-would-have-moved-to-Alaska.'. Abbie leaned up against the oven, and then sniffed. Bailey asked first. "What's that smell?"

My eyes went wide. "The BACON!" Abbie and I said at once.

"Noooooo!" Bailey cried. "You can't burn the candy of meats!"

I gave the meat a critical once over as I pulled it from the heat, then said, choosing my words carefully, "It's not burnt. Just... Very well done."

"Oh, well, that's okay. I like my bacon crispy anyway." Bailey said.

"I'll just leave you all to it. Lots to do today," Sherlock said, trying to sneak out of the kitchen unnoticed. No such luck.

"Oh no you don't! You're eating breakfast wether you like it or not! And I did my research," (They know a lot about us! There was only one interview by the news with Anderson, during which he said that.) "and I know that you need at least a little protein at breakfast. I don't care if its eggs or a piece of ham from last night, but you need to eat something." She stated firmly. Sherlock refused.

Bailey stepped up. "Please Sherlock? Pretty please?" She begged with big brown eyes. Sherlock tried every thing he could think of to not give in, but he didn't have it in him. He plopped himself into a chair and sighed. Abbie rolled her eyes at friend, but smiled. She didn't mean the eye roll. Abbie slid a plate of eggs in front of him, which he stared at like it was poisoned.

"I'm not trying to kill you or drug you in any way. I promise." Abbie said turning to the sink again. Sherlock took a very small bite. "Well?"

"What do you want me to say? I don't think you want to hear-" I was about to kick him, but he stopped due to his phone buzzing. He leapt out of the kitchen, not giving the plate of food another glance. "Sherlock Holmes." He answered calmly. There was a pause, then "Give us ten minutes, we will be there..." The phone shut with a snap. "BRILLIANT!" He howled. Sherlock came back, grinning like a madman. "Another case!" He said pulling on his coat.

"What about us?! I want to go!" Bailey stated.

"No." Abbie planted her foot in that one.

"What?"

"Maybe sometime when I haven't just eaten." I could understand where she was coming from. I felt the same way when I first joined the army as a doctor.

"You eat while you watch Criminal Minds! What's the dif?" She asked. I'll have to look that up. I've never heard of Criminal Minds. Must be American.

"Those aren't real. These are." She stated.

"Oh come on! Please?" She gave Abbie the puppy dog look. Abbie glared at the ceiling, then let out a long breath.

"...Fine. If only to get you to stop doing that! Lets go." She relented.

"Yeah!"

The girls grabbed their coats and we headed out.

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Chapter Song: Good Morning! By Mandisa

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Haha! And the dark twist finally begins in the next chapter! Keep your eyes peeled!


	23. Crime Scene!

Sherlock's P.O.V.

I don't think it would be possible, even for a mind as great as mine, to even begin to understand the unusual antics of my sister and her closest friend. I believe Abigail is beginning to comprehend one reason why I hardly ever eat. Not that I feel sick at the crime scenes, but the thought of tracking a lead on a full stomach is almost unbearable. Bailey however, well, I can't be sure. It's strange. One minute I think I have her worked out, and the next, she goes and does something completely unexpected. I suppose that comes from the Holmes blood, as some would say. I should write a paper on why it isn't the blood, but the DNA in the chromotids, but that is work for another day. Unfortunately, we were intercepted by Lastrade, which didn't bother me much, besides not being able to get in immediately. "Glad you two could come. Who are they?"

"Lastrade, my sister Bailey, and John's niece, Abbie."

"Hi." Abbie said, shaking his hand. "We understand completely if we aren't allowed in," she continued quickly, smiling sweetly.

"Abbie!" Bailey interjected in a pouty manner.

"Well," Lastrade began, scratching the back of his head. "Forensics are finished, and my team has looked at everything of importance," (or so he thought.) "so...I don't see why not."

"Yessss!" Bailey squealed. Abbie's face met her palm.

They entered slowly, as if trying to make sure they didn't disturb the corpse's sleep.

"There was a Doctor Who about something like this. There were these spirits that inhabited the dead bodies, and they would roam the city. Then one almost gave Charles Dickens a heart attack!" Abbie whispered to Bailey.

"I saw that one," Bailey whispered back excitedly. "It was pretty freaky...especially when they turned into.." Abbie cut her off with a harsh look. "Is that why you didn't want to come? Because you watched Doctor Who?" Bailey shot back in a normal tone.

"No, it really is because of Criminal Minds." Abbie continued to whisper.

"And you roll your eyes at my immaturity!" Bailey muttered. I sighed. I remember thinking, 'If I have to deal with much more of this, I swear...' Bailey never let me finish that thought. She had begun deducing, and they were good for an amature. Most were correct, and Abigail added her suppositions a few times, which were interesting. They would match up ideas and facts, and made a very convincing argument. They work well together. I have, by now, deleted the complete facts from my hard drive, but rest assured, it was interesting to hear them talk and banter lightly. After a few moments, John and I took over and the girls watched with fascination. I had almost the whole case solved when I was allowed to get closer to the body, but I explained all my reasoning to the girls, after they insisted that they wanted to hear it. (Had John not been there, I might have done it without their asking.) I was in the middle of a long train of thought, when Abigail's phone began playing some jazz-like tune, which I was recently informed was the Leverage theme tune. The only reason I remember is because they forced me to watch a weekend marathon of it. Needless to say, I was a little more than pleased when Lastrade called early that Sunday afternoon.

Abigail took the call in the next room. I paid no heed to what she was saying until I heard, "Proof of life." Her voice was squeezed and nervous. John, Bailey and I stepped in to give her a bit more attention. Her shoulders were raised and tight, her eyes held fear and shock; one hand clutched the phone, while the other gripped the doorframe a little above head height.

She gasped a moment later. "Mrs. Hudson!" She exclaimed, tears threatening to flow. "I promise, we will get you out of this. Don't worry!" She said this as calmly as she could. She looked into Bailey's eyes for nearly aminute, seeming to confirm that they would help her. There were some words from the other side, then she looked up at me, desperate for help. "I am giving this phone to Sherlock Holmes," she stated. She took a few steps toward me. There were shouts on the other side and she froze, eyes wide. "No! I'm still here! Don't touch her!" She backed a pace. "Why me? Why did you call me instead of John, Sherlock or Bailey?". There was silence for a moment, then horrified realization played across her young features and a stray tear fell over her cheek as she bit her lip. Then she turned ridged. There was silence except for the low buzz of words from the other end of the line. Then, just like that, it was over. "No!"Abbie shouted at the phone. She jabbed the screen with her thumbs a few times, then gave up and sank to the floor. She ran her hands through her hair and gripped it, looking as if she would just pull it out. She started crying quietly. Then, just as quickly, before any of us could react, Abigail got up, wiped her eyes, and said, "We have twenty four hours. Our clue: 'Ride an iron horse to Banbury Cross.'" She quickly headed out of the flat being investigated and flagged a taxi. I was turning the facts she had given us over and over in my head. 'Iron. Why Iron? It was suppose to be cock, if I recall correctly. So a metal horse. Well, what could that be?! And why is it important? Banbury Cross?' I kept thinking up questions to this nature and exploring any old boxes of memories in my mind palace until we were back at the flat. I went to my usual spot by the window with my violin. John, however, had followed Abigail and Bailey to their flat for some reason. A moment later, I realized something. I placed my violin carefully in my grey leather chair and raced upstairs.

"Abigail! Who was it you spoke to on the phone?" I stopped in the doorway. She was seated in an old arm chair, her hands cupping the sides of her face, elbows resting on her knees, the picture of pure misery. John had pulled a chair close to hers and had a comforting hand on her back. I turned to Bailey, who was in a slightly shocked silence. Her back was straight and firm in her chair, her face contorted in confusion.

Abigail raised her head to look me in the eyes. "That was Moriarty. He has Mrs. Hudson," she paused to breathe, "and plans for a bomb."

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Chapter song: Deep Winter (Prelude in B-flat Minor)-Jon Schmidt

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To quote my favorite character from the Croods: Duh, duh, duuuuuuuuuh! (That was Belt! I just think he is adorable! If I go back to watch that movie, it will only be for him!)

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed! I was thrilled to see that we have an excited fan! Whoever wrote the guest review, thank you! It was invigorating!

Also, big thanks to Mistress of the Snow for following and favoriting! That is such a huge deal for us right now! We are so encouraged every time someone puts us on alert!

I must apologize for all the exclamation points. I am just in a super happy mood yesterday and today, for some reason, and I just cannot help it!

Anyway, have a great week, and we will see you soon with more!


	24. Did you miss me?

Abbie's POV

I wanted to kill him. I did. There was no excuse to kidnap a sweet old lady like Mrs. Hudson. Did he never learn one of the first rules of politeness: Respect your elders? And now there was a bomb threat on a timer. I was going to lose it. It might not have bugged me so much had it not been for his answer to my question, 'Why me?'

The answer was cruel: "Because you are the most emotional of the group! You may not be as close to the old lady as Johnny or Sherlock, but you have much stronger emotions toward things of this nature. Sure they will fight back, but you will blame yourself once you start thinking about it.". And I did. After a few minutes, I realized there had been a man poking around the place before we left. I hadn't taken much note of it until I found a picture in my flat of the same man with a gun to Mrs. Hudson's head. I gave myself a few more moments of silence, then got to it.

"I need some music. Now." I instructed Sherlock tersely. He glared at me, but on glance at John, he headed back downstairs.

Bailey had been rather quiet, but now she spoke. "Why did he call you?"

I hadn't told them why yet. I didn't want to look any weaker. I inspected my shoes. "I'll tell you later." I started heading down when Bailey's phone dinged for a text. I looked at her expectantly. After she read it once through, then read it out loud.

"Don't worry dear, haven't forgotten you yet! ;D The clue was for you!"

"What is that suppose to mean?" She took it to show Sherlock, and John and I followed.

Half an hour later, we were still puzzled. We bounced ideas off each other, but nothing fit. I was just fixing tea when: "I got it!" Bailey shouted, punching the air above her head with a fist.

I barely managed to hold on to the tea cup I was handing John. I turned around to look at her. "You got what?"

"The iron horse! Jared was just reading a few weeks ago about a new train just installed and open to the public. The book was called the Iron Horses of London, featuring the new train, Red Rum. Odd, I know, but Red Rum was the name of one of the most famous race horses of London. Annnndddddd..." She typed quickly into her phone. "It goes from a station near here to Banbury!"

"Good going Bailey!" John shouted in excitement.

"Book us four tickets for the next trip under my name, Bailey," Sherlock instructed. We are off to Banbury!"

Bailey's POV

I raced to the laptop as fast as possible and pulled up the train schedule. I ran my finger down the incredibly long list of times, finding the next train to Banbury.

"It leaves in an hour." I said as I filled out the form and booked the tickets under Sherlock's name.

"No! We can't wait that long! We need to go now!". Abbie almost shouted, frantic and near tears again. I kept my cool while explaining,

"Listen, Chica. If we go by a car or bus, it could take us longer than if we just wait for the train. Besides, we need to take that exact train in case there's another clue on it or something. Also, Moriarty knew that this was the soonest train. He allowed for it-he won't do anything quite yet." I sat down beside her on the couch and rubbed her back, trying to calm her down.

"Sherlock and I will go pick up some food," John said. Sherlock must also be in shock, because he nodded with nary a comment.

"Don't-maybe just go on a walk or something," I told John. I nodded at Sherlock, who was just standing there, lost in thought. John nodded, dragging Sherlock out the door.

"How can you be so calm about it all?" Abbie asked me, sniffling. I handed her a tissue, wondering the same thing myself. My mind was racing a million miles an hour, yet I managed to stay calm and clear.

"I guess I've learned to put off a possible nervous breakdown till after I deal with a situation," I said. "I might be like this, too, but if I am, it won't hit till after I realize what happened."

"Oh. I wish I could do that."

"The trick is to just think about the next thing that needs done. Right now, that's dinner. What do you say we make some Fettuccinni Alfredo and some brownies for when they boys get back? Then, we can eat and go. That will keep you occupied so you don't think about it until it's time to do something. Then you'll feel better because you can and are doing something." I looked at her, and her brow cleared a bit as she nodded. Then she frowned again, and I realized something.

"Whatever he told you, it isn't your fault. None of it." She looked at me, as if she couldn't figure out how I knew.

"How did you know? It is my fault! I think I saw him around here earlier and if..." I cut her off.

"No. You didn't know-there was nothing you could have done. That's just Moriarty playing his mind games with you. He gets inside your head and destroys you. But you're stronger than that. You can beat him." I leaned over and gave her a hug. She gave me a watery smile and asked,

"Ready to cook?"

"Always!" I said leading her to the kitchen. I put on a upbeat CD, and the next twenty minutes was a small relief from the stress. I couldn't help but wonder what Moriarty would say to me in an attempt to break me.

When the boys came back from their walk, they seemed ready to deal with the problem, as were we girls. They looked less shaken. Still, the four of us ate in silence. When we were done, Abbie and I automatically rose, cleared the table, and washed the dishes. Abbie put some food in some Tupperware containers.

"For Mrs. Hudson," she explained.

"Good thinking. I'll grab a few water bottles," I added.

"Sherlock and I already have some packed," John informed me. I simply nodded in acknowledgement. Then, I grabbed my fits- everything-bag with all my emergency supplies (hairspray, matches, first aid kit, pepper spray, pocket knife, water bottles, and snacks), John grabbed his bag of supplies (we were really, really, really prepared-for anything), and we headed out the door to save Mrs. Hudson.


	25. Cut Time

Sherlock's P.O.V.

It took us a matter of three minutes to get down the street and into the station. When we arrived, we were told to get on the third car of the train, which, for the briefest moment, I found queer. However, this is Moriarty that we are discussing. He very well could have paid in cash or threatened someone's death to have us get on the third. When we got on the car, we found it completely empty. Not surprising.

John and I sat across from the girls in parallel rows, so that we were facing each other. I watched Abigail carefully, noting her every twitch. She had gotten over the crying bit about an hour ago, had worked through the silent shock, and was now moving into the livid anger stage. This kind of progression is common in a situation like this. I knew that if she went for too long in this emotional state, it could potentially ruin her. That is exactly what we don't need. I sat there, wishing someone would say something. Their strained silence, only broken by a solemn piano violin duet over the speakers, was almost worse than Anderson speaking. I could practically feel them thinking. I had to divert their attention.

"He will contact us soon. Most likely while we are on this train," I stated.

"Why?" John asked.

"Abbie is on breaking point," Bailey explained, "and his voice could potentially be the twig that topples her sanity." She squeezed her friends shoulder comfortingly. Abigail was slightly slumped over, elbows on knees, head in hands, thinking about something. She suddenly got up and paced half the length of the car many times before Bailey insisted that she sit down.

"No, I can't. I can't just sit and wait for something to happen." She said frustratedly.

John unexpectedly snapped his fingers. "I think I know what rhyme he is using!"

"What? What is it?" Abigail exclaimed.

"It's the Banbury Cross rhyme. You know, Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross, to see a fine lady on a white horse. With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes."

"You're right!" Bailey exclaimed. "Moriarty just 'updated' it, so that we would go on a train instead of riding horses!"

There was a crackle over the speakers. "You figured it out a little sooner than hoped." Abigail stiffened at his voice, but kept her head... for now. "I was going to send you to the statue, but now I see that I can just shorten the time on the bomb. Due to this fact, I will give you a clue. Sherlock and John both know what the next part is. Simple really." Moriarty chuckled lightly.

I growled in frustration. What the heck was that suppose to mean?

"How much time do we have?" I asked softly.

He giggled. "Oh, an hour and a half, if you must know."

"What?!" We all shouted. I have to admit, I was shocked. We went from around seven hours to an hour and a half. That means we couldn't be far. I went into my mind palace and found a map of England. There was Banbury, about forty-five minutes out of town by train. The cross is set up in the middle of the town, "but we aren't going there!" I thought to myself. There has to be something. White horse... White horse...

"Come on!" Moriarty whined through the speaker. "Think! I also gave you a clue while you were sitting there, contemplating Mrs. Hudson, and my rhyme."

"Oh!" Abigail yelped excitedly. "I knew I had heard it before! Sherlock, that was Anthem from the musical Chess. Does that tell you anything?"

"Yes!" I thought for a moment more. There was something else... I couldn't think of what it was... "John!" I called.( In my mind palace, he seems much farther away than simply right beside me.) "Was the name of that performing group the Black Knights?"

"Yeah, but why... Oh!" He actually got it this time.

"You mean that band from the US?" Bailey asked. "They are performing tonight in the music and dance fest just outside Banbury on the plains. Do you think that he would put her there?"

"I am still here you know!" Moriarty said in a sing-song lilt.

I ignored his voice and turned to my little sister. "Yes. I believe that he would try many other absurd plans as well. We need to get out there quickly!"

Moriarty sighed. "I don't understand what you find so important about her. I mean, the girls have only known her, what, a week? Yet they are taking this as seriously as you two! Why?"

Abigail huffed. "How can one person be so heartless? We may have only known her a week, but she accepted us as quickly as long lost children. She gave us everything we could have needed, and more. She showed us a love that I thought could only come from family and very close friends. You have dared to attempt breaking that bond, and I swear, the only fruit that you will bear from those seeds is many lifetimes in jail. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but we will track you to the ends of the earth to make sure it happens!"

There was a bit a silence for a moment.

"My," Moriarty started, "she has got some fierce fire burning today, hasn't she?"

"You wanna see fierce?!" She was losing it, I could tell. "You show your face, I'll give you fierce!" She shouted.

"Abbie!" Bailey chided.

John quickly jumped in. "This is our stop!"

We got off and hit the streets running.

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Chapter song: Anthem from Chess the musical.

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Thanks for reading! My most sincere apologies for not being on this the past few weeks. I have been trying to survive, basically! There have been a couple of days where I felt exactly like Abbie! ; )

A few quick shout outs! Thanks to hwhovian for following and favoriting! It made me super happy!

Just as a reminder, if anyone has any questions, please feel free to PM me, and I will happily explain any and everything! Also, I have noticed in some of my own writing, the characters gain a bit of my own speaking habits, which are exactly what Sherlock, John and Moriarty do not have... If you see anything like that, again, please let me know! Thank you!

Anyway, have a great week, And I will try to have more up soon!


	26. Hide and Seek

Sherlock POV.

We silently crept down the pitch-black tunnel, carefully avoiding faux spiders and real spider-webs hanging from the ceiling. Bailey and John shone their flashlights side to side, ensuring that every inch of the abandoned ride was covered with light as we passed through looking for any signs that Moriarty had been there. I couldn't help but think about how Bailey had reacted during our conversation-like she had handled a situation like this before. Or maybe it was just that she had brothers? Either way, I knew that she would make it through this, as would Abigail. Abigail seemed to have made it through the worst of it, but it was what came after-when what just happened sinks in-that I knew would be a problem for Bailey. Just as I was beginning to sink into my mind palace, I registered a small, dim light up ahead. I focused just in time to hear Bailey sing, barely audibly, "There's a light at the end of this tunnel..." Abbie grinned. I really don't know what John fed her. I will have to find out.

The four of us crept, if it was possible, even more softly down the rest of the corridor, all on high alert. When we reached the wide-open space, Bailey's already big brown eyes widened at the daunting prospect in front of us: the whole room (about the size of a big dining hall) was filled with Mrs. Hudson's tied to chairs.

"We have to find the real one in all of this?" Abbie asked, sounding slightly concerned.

"Well, that's a bit obvious, isn't it?" I muttered. Bailey shot me a glare. I held my hands up in defense and apology.

"Moriarty's probably drugged Mrs. Hudson so that she looks and responds like one of these dummies. How should we proceed?" Bailey asked, questioning me. Out of nowhere came Moriarty's voice.

"Right you are! And by the way, you now have 30 minutes. Good luck!"

"As if this room wasn't already creepy enough," said Abbie, "the king of creepiness himself had to add to it." Bailey gave her friend an 'are you okay? I'm not sure sugar was a good idea.' look.

"Where do we begin?" John asked. "And how do we tell which one of these is the real Mrs. Hudson?"

I saw a light dawn in Bailey's eyes. She reached under the nearest chair and pulled off an obviously fake explosive package. "This is how," she explained. "The real Mrs. Hudson will have an actual explosive package underneath! I am guessing that we have to find the explosives and disarm them."

"Wonderful work, Miss Holmes," Moriarty's voice chuckled. An odd look crossed Bailey's face, like she hadn't yet accustomed herself to the name. "You win a prize! For your correct answer, you-and no one else-will cut the bomb's wires or the whole place goes boooom!"

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Chapter Song: Summer by David Garrett

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Thanks for reading guys! I he you are enjoying this! I was undecided as to wether to add the next chapter and make it a longer one, but that would mean more editing, and I am tired!

Anyway, quick shout out to Ma13 for following! I send virtual hugs to all y'all who followed and favorite-d our story thus far! Thanks so much for the support everyone!

Have a great week everybody!


	27. Diffusing the Situation

Abbie's P.O.V.

I could snap his neck. Easily. Like a toothpick. I had stopped being surprised by what he told us to do. I highly expected there were worse things he could make us do. "What if I find it first?" I shouted at the ceiling. "Will you blow us all if I cut it?" I knew the answer. It was obvious. But I didn't want to think any more than I had to.

"As you Americans say, 'uh, duh.'" He said, sounding like a completely irresponsible teenager. I heard Sherlock growl. He hated this as much as I did. I glanced at Bailey. She was breathing slow and deep. If you can put composure in a percentage, Bailey was at eighty, I was at fifty. I took a deep breath and looked at my phone. It was two minutes after eleven. The bomb would go off at eleven thirty.

"Abbie, I want you along that wall," John commanded. "I'll take the opposite side. Bailey and Sherlock, I want each of you to take half of the middle. If you see anything suspicious, shout." We all just nodded. There was enough to worry about without arguing with a sound plan. We went quickly, but I feared that we wouldn't have time to look at every single one. I dropped to my hands and knees to work at the same level as the explosives. I was just getting into a good rhythm, when the psycho upstairs started talking again.

"You know, you four are so adorable! I love that you sample off of each others strengths, and work to conquer your fears together. It's sooooooo adorable! But Sherlock, I am surprised that you are willing to let two teenage girls in the flat, what with all those experiments! Have you checked your laptop? Or emails? I mean, if you can hack John's laptop, who knows what your sister could do!"

"We wouldn't go rifling through his stuff. That would be rude and inconsiderate! Of course, you wouldn't know anything about that." I spouted. Snappy comebacks usually don't come easily with me, however, this jerk had gotten on my bad side, and had made our lives a living heck for one too many hours, and I was sick of his plans ruining our Friday evening. I sighed. It seemed like forever ago when we were helping Sherlock and John with the case.

"You know, Bailey hasn't had a lot to say this whole time. What's going through your mind?" Moriarty asked. I looked her way. She was half way across the room, both from me, and her assigned space. Her observational skills had gotten even better while we were here in London.

"First of all," Bailey's voice drifted over the rows of dummies, "I hate you with a deep, unrelenting fire of loathing." I had to grin at that. She always insisted that if it looked like there might be the slightest chance of losing, she would fight back harder than ever, that way, if she did lose (which is highly doubted) no one could say she didn't try. "Secondly," she continued, "if you are going to talk our ears off in our last few precious minutes, why don't you be useful and tell us how much time we have left." I caught a low chuckle from Sherlock, who was a few dummies away from me. He was looking very hard at one of the explosive packages.

"Fifteen minutes!" Moriarty exclaimed gleefully.

"Sherlock?" I asked, moving towards him.

"I found it," he barely whispered. He and I didn't move for half a second, then I jumped up.

"We have it! Quick!" I shouted. I went to Mrs. Hudson, who had been heavily sedated. I went to rip off the rope, but Sherlock grabbed my wrist.

"What?" I asked. He pointed at the rope, specifically to the thin wire wound into the rope. It detached from the rope underneath the armrest, and was connected to the inside of the explosives. Gee, Sherlock was smart. I was glad he looked the whole thing over before getting us near it.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Thanks."

Just then, Bailey charged up and dropped to her knees in front of the bomb. John came up just after her.

"Okay. Sherlock, John, instructions please," Bailey ordered, glaring at the wiring. After a moment of silence, she looked up at her brother. "Sherlock, I need to know how to shut this down. Now." Sherlock swallowed hard and glanced at John.

John caught the look, and a shock wave crawled across his face. "You don't... After what happened in that bloody train car, you never looked it up!" Uncle John looked like he could blow a few fuses. Then he just deflated, all energy just exited at the same moment and left him in a small heap of sorrow.

I took a deep breath. Bailey and Sherlock would not do it because of what happened the last time we ran into him, and John had him near the top of "avoid at all costs list." That left me.

"I'll call Mycroft," I said. No one argued.

"Moriarty, you pain in the butt, I need a time check!" I shouted.

He giggled. "Ten minutes! You are all so adorable! Just so you know, I am going to let you call your friends. However, for later reference, you can't call anyone unless I say so. If, of course, there is a later!"

"Whatever," I muttered, punching Mycroft's number. I explained the situation to Mycroft in as few words as possible, and he hooked me up to one of his special agents who was good at this stuff.

"Okay," said the new voice, which seemed strangely familiar. The caller was attempting to conceal hi real voice, but i still recognized it. "I need pictures of it from as many angles as you can get. How much time do we have?"

"Seven minutes!" Called Moriarty.

"Seven minutes," I replied. I instructed Sherlock to take the pictures.

"Right..." He paused a moment. "First, ..." He gave a short list of instructions, which I relayed to Bailey. She followed them to the tee. "Lastly, you snip the... red wire."

"You don't sound very confident," I said quietly.

"One minute!" Moriarty was thrilled.

"I'm not absolutely sure, but I'll take the eighty percent over twenty."

"Okay." I told Bailey which one, then I went back to my phone. "Thanks. And listen, I know who you are. Your secret is safe with us. Good by, Michael." I hung up and Bailey looked at me with wide eyes.

I nodded. "How 'bout you cut the wire, and if we live, then we can talk."

"Ten," Moriarty said gleefully. "Nine." I gripped Bailey's arm. "Eight." Sherlock clasped our shoulders. "Seven." I took John's hand and gave him a look that I hoped conveyed all the gratitude and love that I hadn't expressed in words over the last few days. "Six.

"Five."

I leaned in and whispered, "Beat him."

"Four.

"Three.

"Two!"

She squeezed the cutters.

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Kronos Unveiled from The Incredibles

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See you soon, readers! Hope you enjoyed it!


	28. Leverage would be NiceA More Fatal Game

(Bailey's P.O.V.)

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I squeezed my eyes tightly shut before pressing the wire cutters together. I waited a second before slowly cracking open one eye. When I registered that I had actually done it-that the bomb wasn't a threat anymore- I grinned at Abbie and let out a shaky breath.

Sherlock smiled at me. "You did it!" he said. I smiled back and he gave me a long warm hug. Abbie and I high-fived. But there was something bothering me about this whole thing...I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"Awwww! Look at the adorable celebration! Have fun! Tata for now!" Moriarty's voice came through the speakers. That was what was bothering me.

"Sherlock," I asked carefully, "does Moriarty usually show up to crime scenes?"

"Yes. He can't resist gloati..." Sherlock trailed off. He inhaled sharply as he caught my drift. "Oh." He said softly. I just nodded. I turned to Abbie and John, who were untying a groggy but alive Mrs. Hudson.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Don't worry. Somebody kidnapped you. It's alright now," reassured John.

"We're going to get you back to 221 Baker Street and a warm cup of tea," Abbie said comfortingly. She seemed so much better now that she knew Mrs. Hudson was okay. I looked questioningly at Sherlock. He jerked his head toward the exit, and the two of us slipped out of the room as Abbie and John were distracted with taking care of Mrs. Hudson. When we got out into the daylight, we ducked back out into the crowd. Sherlock began dragging me toward the taxi stand.

"Sherlock, where are we going?" I asked nervously.

"We are going to ask my homeless network about Moriarty. We're going after him. Mrs. Hudson needs someone to look after her, and I don't want to worry Abigail and John. Besides, they would be anxious to come with us."

"And why shouldn't they?"

"Because Moriarty has a special interest in you and Abigail."

"So what? Doesn't that mean that I shouldn't be doing this? That you shouldn't be dragging me to the man who has a special interest in me and my best friend? Shouldn't we just go to 221 with Abbie and John and figure this out together?"

"I feel safer with you in my sight, and John feels the same about Abigail. Besides, if we tell them, they'll want to come, and then Mrs. Hudson will find out, and that will cause her to be upset."

I sighed. I wasn't going to win the argument. I felt extremely uneasy about this, but there was no going against what Sherlock said. He hailed a cab, and we got in. I watched the fairground until it disappeared. Then, the screen in front of us lit up.

"Sherlock, you're so predictable!" Moriarty said. This was the first time I'd actually seen him this whole trip. "You should've listened to your little sister!" Then, live footage of John and Abbie showed up on the screen. They were helping Mrs. Hudson off of the ride tracks. "Do what I say and nothing will happen to the three of them. Right now, Bailey, I want you to text Abbie and tell her something that will make her not worry about you for at least an hour. Type and then show me the message and hit send while I watch." I nodded, in shock, pulled out my phone, and texted Abbie: "S and I r going 2 eat. He wanted some time 2gethr. I won't be back any soonr than an hour. C U l8r, Abs!" I held up the phone to the TV screen so Moriarty could see my message, then hit send while he was watching.

"Wonderful," he said. "More instructions later! The cabbie knows where you're going. Hang tight!" The screen went blank.

"Sherlock," I said quietly, "what did you get us into?"

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(Sherlock's P.O.V.)

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I glared out the window. I should have known.

"Actually," said the persona of Mycroft in my Mind Palace, "in a way, you did know. You also knew it wasn't a good idea to bring Bailey with you, but you reasoned she would be safer with yourself than at the flat."

"Or maybe, I shot back, "I was merely paranoid about leaving her." I suppose both options were decent reasons, looking back. At the moment though, I had to stay focused. I tried to shuffle through my new options, but there weren't any, except the decision as to whether I would enjoy the ride or not. I went with not.

I sighed, keeping track of the roads in my head. We were near the docks. Suddenly, to my surprise, Bailey grabbed my hand and leaned her head against my shoulder. Her pulse rate was ever so slightly up, and her breathing was I just a bit erratic. What do I do with a scared younger sister? I thought about it for a moment. I went back to when I was a child, scared of a bad dream at three years of age. I went to Mother, and she would talk nonsense. But it had helped. So I took my mother's idea.

"Bailey, you're okay," I said, trying to sound as calming as possible, which is quite hard. I squeezed her hand, and reached over with the other to stroke her hair. She sighed shakily into the sleeve of my coat. "I will get you out of this. I promise," I told myself as much as her. Finally, the cab stopped, and we got out. We were in an old dress shop that I remember had been abandon after people claimed a ghost haunted the upstairs. Idiots.

We were ushered to the back room to find something I had not ever expected to see. A large metal frame stood from floor to ceiling, which was twelve feet. At the bottom of the frame was a metal bed, which looked exactly like a surgeons table, except that there was a gap, about two inches wide, separating the head rest from the table itself. About a foot above the gap, sitting in the frame, was a large metal plate, wickedly sharpened along the lower edge. Bailey glanced up at me, eyes full of terror at the sight. I myself was a little shocked at the extravagance Moriarty had gone to.

"Hello!" He came through a door at the back of the room, grinning like a crocodile. "Ah! The newest Holmes sibling! Glad to finally meet you in person!"

She gave him a death stare I hope to never again see cross her face. "I'm sure you are," She growled.

"Let's play a little game, shall we?" He suggested.

Someone pushed a needle into my neck, which rendered my body useless. I tried to fight back, but the drug was strong and fast. I could do nothing as I was dragged toward my death. I heard Bailey scream my name. As they hoisted me onto the table, I caught a glimpse of her struggling against two men twice her size. They tied her to a chair, the bonds tight enough to make her yelp in pain.

"Now, Bailey," Moriarty continued. "I will let you choose beforehand if you want to threaten the life of beloved brother, or terminate the life of a person at random off the streets. After you decide, I will ask you questions, and you will answer them as best you can. If you get it right, no harm is done to anyone. However, if you are wrong one of two things will happen. If you chose a random person off the street, one person who happens to be walking by one of my men will be shot down. This version of the game can go as long as I want. If you choose your brother, well..."

Moriarty pressed a button on his keyboard. There was a click, and the metal blade slid up a foot. "That happens!" Moriarty exclaimed. "There is eight feet of space between where the blade is now and the top, which gives you eight wrong answers. On the ninth wrong answer, down comes death! If you choose the life of someone in London, you have an unlimited amount. And, if you choose not to play, you, Sherlock and your friends at home in Baker Street will be shot, no exceptions. And, on top of that, you will watch them all die first. Now, I will give you ten minutes to pull yourself together. Sherlock should be able to talk here in a moment, so you two can discuss any last words or whatever it is you need to do."

Moriarty and most of his guards left, slamming the door behind them, leaving only two men, one at each door. There was silence for almost two whole minutes.

"Sherlock," she whimpered at last. I could hear the tears that were no doubt streaming down her face in that single word. She gasped slightly audibly for air. "What do I do?!"

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Chapter Song: Duel of the Fates by John Williams (Start Wars Episode I)

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Wow, it has been a while! So sorry about that, my friends! But I did put two shorter chapters together to really entice you all with part three. Or is it four? No idea. Anyway, I do have more to come (this is only a little more than half way through) so keep us on your update list. Hope all are doing well!

As usual, if anyone is feeling strong emotions, foul or fair, about how insanely long I take to update things, I would love to hear about them. Of course, you can talk to me about other stuff, too, so don't hesitate! Have a great day people! :D


	29. Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble...

_(Abbie's point of view)_

John, Mrs. Hudson and I made it back to the flat without any trouble. However, I had this creepy feeling that we were being watched. Uncle John and I made sure she had something to eat and drink, and wasn't physically hurt, then I pulled him aside and told him about the text Bailey sent me. "It's weird!" I exclaimed, pulling the text up on my phone to show him. "Why would they just dash off? Bailey was just as anxious about Mrs. Hudson's safety as I was, so why would they not make sure she got back to the flat?"

"Maybe they trust us." John stated, not truly grasping what I was trying to tell him.

"She also didn't sign off the way we normally do. Look. In every earlier message, she calls me Twix and signs off as R. or Reece. Why not now? And she didn't respond when I asked what they were really doing. I think they are in serious trouble John. And with Moriarty still out there, you never know what could happen! Please! I have to know they are okay!" I begged. John gave the once over, adult-trying-to-make-sure-I-am-telling-the-truth glare. Then he sighed.

"Alright. what do you suggest we do?"

"I am going to call a friend first, and see if he can help us. Then we need to get out of here without being seen by any neighbors."

"If we change, we can look like some dinner guests and go through Mrs. Turner's back door into the alley. Sherlock goes through there if there is trouble outside, and Mrs. Turner won't mind."

"Great," I said confidently. "I'm going to call Michael, and see if he can help us."

"How would he be able to help?"

"He can track Bailey's or Sherlock's phone, and provide us with more manpower. Uncle John, I highly suggest you grab your gun." John went to his room to 'lock and load.' I changed my tennis shoes to knee high leather boots, my purple tee for an orange jumper and brown leather jacket. I stuffed my gun inside my jacket, and a large dagger into my right boot. Then I dialed Michael's number that I received from Mycroft and waited. He picked up on the second ring.

"What now, Abbie?"

"Gee, no, 'You're alive! How freaked out were you?' speech?"

"I'm in the middle of a very good video game right now, so whatever you want, spit it out, because I have a Kingdom to save!"

"Fine. Sheesh! I need you to track Bailey's phone. I think she and Sherlock have gotten themselves into a bit of a mess, and I need to find them."

"Just a second," he said. I knew he was concerned for Bailey (she had been his I sister ever since he was three, so to him, she _was _his sister!). I heard him frantically digging around, and then an "Aha! There it is!" Then furious typing on a computer keyboard. A few more than a few seconds later, Michael gave me a stand-still address for where she was.

"Meet me there, and let me know if they move, okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'll meet you at the corner across the road." We hung up just as John came back in. He wore a nice jacket over his customary jumper, and I noted the gun handle out of his pocket.

"I'd push it a little deeper into your pocket if I were you," I suggested. He stuffed his hands inside, completely smothering any trace of the gun with his arm.

"Better?" He asked teasingly.

"Much," I stated, chuckling lightly. "Come on," I said seriously. "We have to go. We will meet Michael there. It's thirty-minute drive in good traffic conditions, so hopefully we will get there in the next forty minutes." I shivered at what could possibly be happening to them. Nothing I could have dreamed met the sight I would see on arrival.

Song: TBA

Hello everyone! It's the Pianist! Just kidding...it's her fabulous co-author Reese! I'm your guest updater for the night...yay! We're updating the story in honor of the Sherlock Special that is just beginning...I'm sitting here with the Pianist and we're about to freak out at just the recap! OH MY GOODNESS so exciting. Anyway I'm gonna watch the show now...feel free to R&amp;R and tell us what you think so far! We are open to suggestions. Enjoy the special, Sherlockians! :D :D :D :D


	30. Something Wicked This Way Comes!

(_Bailey's POV)_

Tears were streaming down my face. I had held it together pretty well till now, but this was too much! I was literally holding lives (or a life) in my hands, trusting in my ability to correctly answer questions. But it wouldn't help at all if I tried it like this. I made myself focus and stop crying.

"Sherlock," I asked, "what do I do?"

He turned his head toward me. "Well, I am glad to see you've regained your head. You're going to need it: this won't be easy!" I nodded, and he continued. "Come here, little one," he said gently. I walked over, giving the two goons a look that told them 'stay where you are or I deck you'. Sherlock looked into my eyes and said, "I want you to pick me." I shuddered and tears threatened to overflow my eyes again. He was my brother! "You understand why, yes?" He asked. I did: I had eight wrong answers until he started being tortured and it was one person compared to who-knows-how-many. I nodded to him. "Good," he said. He lowered his voice to a barely-audible whisper. "That text-will Abbie know something's wrong and call someone for backup?" I nodded imperceptibly, but Sherlock caught it. Another thing almost driving me mad: Michael, my foster-brother whom I had known since he was three and I was four, was a spy! I was really going to lose it. I was near the edge. Tears came again even with my resistance. "Shhhh, shhh," Sherlock comforted. "It's going to be okay. Everything will be okay." I took a few deep, shuddering breaths and managed a facade of calm on my face. Then I turned to the camera (it was cleverly hidden, but I had found it).

"Moriarty, you loser, I'm choosing Sherlock," I announced. He instantly appeared in the doorway he had exited through.

"Perrrfect," he purred. "Ready to play?"

"No. No, I'm not. First, I need some Reese cups, some strawberry-flavored water, and at least five big pillows to sit on," I crossed my arms stubbornly and shot Moriarty a glare like the one I had given his goons earlier. _If looks could kill..._ I thought. Moriarty thought this over.

"You. Go get the little girl what she wants," he demanded of one of his henchmen. The huge man departed, muttering under his breath. I would say he was repeating my list. What I was trying to do was (a) stall and (b) get rid of one of the men for when Abbie came with reinforcements. Moriarty chuckled. "Well, you seem to her gotten ahold of yourself quite nicely," he said, admiringly.

"Mmmm-hmmmm," I grunted, checking my nails. "Quick question for you before you start interrogating me. Why am I here and what are you planning to do?"

"Wellllll, I suppose you ought to know," Moriarty said slowly. "As you know, my man in the U.S. was monitoring you. When you met with Sherlock and John at the FroYo shop before flying here (seats 3,4,5, and 6 in first class), I knew you were going to come here and help him. I didn't want extra manpower on his side-especially not _you and Abbie,_ who have this stuff in your blood. This was partially to get to know you two and vet you and partially to try to break you early on. Though there is a little surprise for you once Sherlock dies," he grinned mischievously.

"Aha! Let me guess: a bomb under...what would it be this time?...Ah! Buckingham palace!" Moriarty looked slightly abashed that I had known. Sherlock grinned. "Hey! Don't look so surprised! I mean, really. You've done just about every other important place in England. Besides, Banburry is almost as far away as you can get from Buckingham, and it would stand to reason you'd want us far away. By the way, you really need to change your modus operandi. What makes you so sure I can't answer the questions?" I asked, calmly looking him in the eye and exuding a confidence I didn't feel. Just then, Moriarty's goon returned with my requests. Dang. It had only been about ten minutes. I would have to answer correctly for at least ten more, maybe twenty, depending on when Abbie and John left. I slowly took the pillows and arranged them, Roman-style, all piled up, and lounged on them. I then gestured for my chocolate and water. I took a gulp of the water and then ate one of my five Reese cups. "Okay. Begin," I said calmly.

Song for the chapter: also TBA

Hello again! It's your amazing (and also slightly tired) co-author Reese again! Just because the Pianist and I were so excited (and knew you guys wanted more of our awesomesauce writing ;) ), we decided to give you guys another chapter...again, feel free to R&amp;R! And now, your lovely and talented co-authors are off to bed...


	31. Observations

Chapter 30 (John's P.O.V.)

I was glad the girls (supposedly) went back to the flat. I was a little surprised that Bailey texted me instead of Abbie, but it doesn't matter.

We had been staring out the window of the cab, trying to come up with a strategy on how to get into Buckingham Palace (of all places!). Sherlock was about to say something, when his phone dinged. He removed it from his breast pocket and glanced at it. Then he huffed, let his hand drop, holding the phone loosely. "We're in," Sherlock stated after a moment, stuffing the phone back in his pocket. Mycroft, I thought.

"Did big brother get you in?" Moriarty asked. "That's so boring!" There was a low, faint growl from Sherlock. Then we jumped out and walked over to the side entrance of the palace. There were two guards waiting. When we came up, they checked ID's. We were allowed through and as soon as we were inside, I asked the obvious question.

"So, where's the bomb?"

"Why, where else? The queen's bedroom, of course!" He chuckled. This was all some big joke to him. We were directed by one of the guards working inside to the upper floor. The man went with us to warn the queen. We got to the room to see a huge wall of windows, looking out over half of London. I just stared for a moment. "Well isn't this nice! We can watch the world burn from right here!" Moriarty grinned. I was still trying to figure out what he meant when Sherlock said the last thing I wanted to hear:

"There are more." He whispered, barely believing himself apparently. "John, he has more all over the city!"

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Abbie's P.O.V.

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I didn't like that I was threatening someone's life with my gun. I just liked having it in case of being attacked. I mean, yes, my life is being threatened, but I still didn't like the powerful feeling of forcing someone to do your bidding. I also didn't like the fact that we lied to Uncle John and Sherlock. I tried to convince myself that we lied to Moriarty, but he had passed the lie to the men, which is basically saying a=b, and b=c, thus a=c. I shivered. There was too much to do to worry about that now. I went back to focusing on the task at hand. Bailey was trying to find a way into Buckingham without killing anyone, while watching the map to make sure the cabbie was taking us the right way. I was about to ask if I could help, when the cab pulled to the side of the road. "What are you doing?" I asked, nervously placing my finger on the trigger. I tried faking calm, but I am pretty sure my voice cracked.

"You want to help your friends right?" He asked. "Moriarty has them in the queen's bedroom. It can be stopped by them, but there are more all over the city. You can turn them all off from the control room." Bailey and I shared a glance.

"Where?" Bailey asked.

"Just through there," he said, pointing at a small pizza parlor across the street. It was closed, as is expected at 1:45 a.m.

"Alright, out," I ordered. I nudged his head with the barrel of my gun. He got out smoothly, waiting with his hands where I could see them. When we got to the door, Bailey opened it, but held back.

"After you," she said to the cabbie. He went in carefully, and I followed, keeping my gun just out of his reach. As we walked through the door, I held my left hand (the one not holding the gun) behind myself to Bailey. She took it, and I think I can safely say for both of us, that we found comfort in it. We strode through the dining area and kitchen to find at the back, was a huge monitoring room. Computer and television screens lined the walls, giving a view of many differing rooms across London. I couldn't understand why you would do that, but then I saw the bombs. Unlike the ones that we put down earlier, these were in metal cases, and appeared high tech and sophisticated. I couldn't help but gasp as I saw that people (men, women, and children) were bound and gagged in the rooms as well. I felt my throat clench, and my eyes stung as another round of tears fought for freedom.

I quickly got hold of myself and turned to Bailey. "Get the men on the phone. They need to see this."

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Hey guys,

So sorry about the mess up on the last version of this. I have no idea what wrong turn in Miami I made, but it was a bad one! Big shout out to our newest friend, Reading-Stories-Only! lots of comments left by this one! i can't wait to look into all of the different responses I got from you! Thank you again!

Thank you to you all for reading!

Pianist


	32. Chapter 32

p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"Chapter 31 (Sherlock's P.O.V.)/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"I was in Buckingham Palace again. Oh the memories...at least this time I was wearing some clothes. Time to focus. So Moriarty had more bombs. How many? Where? What did he want us to do? Just then my phone dinged. I automatically checked it. It was from Bailey! /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'More bombs over London' it read. Attached was a picture of a bank of monitors, showing sleek, sophisticated bombs. But there was also a person being held hostage in each of the rooms! /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'How many?' I replied./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'12' was the immediate response. I closed my eyes. What was I going to do? /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Where are you and what are doing out of the flat?' I asked./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Long story.' Came the reply. 'But b assured we r safe. Got a plan? :)'. Smiley face? Hmmm./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""What are you doing, Sherlock? I hope for her sake that it's not your little sister." I kept my face a mask of calm, concealing the fact that it was, in fact, my little sister./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""No. A member of my homeless network," I said. /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""I am going to text my man and we'll see if it truelly isn't your sweet baby sister." He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text. A reply came. "Well," Moriarty said. "They say your sister and her friend are right where they're supposed to be. They did try to come to you, but my cabbie got to them first," he made a tisk-tisk sound. "That little one of yours and her friend are annoying me, Sherlock." I hoped for their sakes that Bailey and Abbie didn't do anything stupid. Another text came./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Sherlock, r u there? U r scaring me.' From Bailey./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'I'm here, little one. Do you see anything unusual? A control panel? Timer?'/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Here's the control panel. You can't read the timer in the middle, but it says 9:53 in that picture.' I looked at the attached picture carefully. I expanded it to full screen./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Is that nine hours or minutes?" I asked Moriarty. He looked slightly shocked./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Very good, Sherly! It's minutes, if you must know." I texted Bailey./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'That 9 is minutes, Bailey. Do you have anyone with you who can handle bombs?'/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Yeah. We got the min part. We r actually holding M's cabbie hostage right now.' Bailey replied. I grinned to myself. /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'B careful. He probably has a trick up his sleeve,'/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Obvi. He brought us here w/o asking.' I frowned./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'I want you to call Mycroft.' I replied./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"'Ab's already on it.' She texted./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"Bailey's P.O.V./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"I frowned as I typed out the fact that Moriarty's cabbie, whose name tag read Joe, had brought us here voluntarily. "What are you planning?" I said, whirling on Joe. He only grinned, shaking his head. I scowled at him. Then I turned to Abbie. "Call Mycroft. We need some help, and Michael won't help this time." She nodded, dialing Mycroft's number. Then Sherlock replied. I grinned at the fact that he told me to call Mycroft after we had already done so. I listened to Abbie's conversation./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""No...Well, I...Not sure...Duh!...I can't reach it...What does the fact that it's a pizza parlor have to do with it?...No, not really...I don't know what's happening at Buckingham...Well, last I saw he had clothes on...Know what? Here's your little sister." She handed me the phone in frustration./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Hello?" I said./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Bailey, I want you to text me a picture of the monitures and control panel."/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Okay," I said. I took the pics and sent them to him. After a second of looking at them, he said,/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""That blue button should be a PA system hooked up to Buckingham palace. He would want communication. Try talking to him first. Oh, actually, push the green button-that should temporarily stop the clock."/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""For how long?"/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Five minutes," he said. I shuddered. That meant we had about thirteen minutes total. /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Thanks," I said./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Oh, and Bailey," he said before hanging up, "please don't get yourself or Sherlock killed." I looked at the phone after he hung up, shook my head, then handed Abbie's phone back to her. I will never figure out that man./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Green button gives us a five minute delay," I said. Abbie pushed it. "Blue button is a PA system to Buckingham palace." She pushed that one, too. Let the fun begin! /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;""Is this thing on?" I said into the mic. I searched through the bank of monitors, looking for the Buckingham palace one. I found it just as Moriarty jumped slightly from my unexpected voice./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./\\./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"Author note./p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"Man, After a few months, I had already forgotten how far in we were! i am so excited by these developments. I can't wait to finish this little venture! I am so appreciative to all of you who are keeping up with this! So sorry about the long wait. don't get hopes up to quickly, though, about a new update again. Maybe I can get you lovelies some updates soon... maybe! /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"Anyway, Hope everyone's Christmas, New Years, and all your other beautiful celebrations went well this year and that this years off to a great start!/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"Pianist/p 


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